#[anyway ... as usual i am here while everyone sleeps]

[kathlare]

heatwave

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: In the middle of the sun-soaked chaos of race weekend, they share something intimate, soft, and grounding, all while something unspoken pulses between them, just waiting for the right moment to be said.

Wordcount: 7.5 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

May 3rd, 2025 - Miami, FL

Traffic in Miami could burn in hell.

Amelie had changed outfits three times, lost her earring once, and forgotten her lip gloss twice. She’d FaceTimed Lando in the middle of her chaos, wearing only her robe and asking which heels he liked better. He’d groaned at the sight of her, muttered something about her doing this on purpose, and picked the strappy white ones while calling her a menace.

She ended the call with a smirk, already twenty minutes late.

By the time she made it to the restaurant — a rooftop overlooking the glittering water and the chaotic buzz of pre-race Miami — the sun was starting to melt into the skyline. She spotted the table immediately. Laughter, wine glasses, and the unmistakable sound of gossip being passed around like candy.

—Jesus, I’m so late— she muttered, approaching.

—You’re always late— Lily Muni He chimed, eyes twinkling as she stood to give her a hug. —At this point, it’s your brand.—

—I had a wardrobe malfunction— Amelie defended herself as she kissed everyone hello, slipping between Carmen and Kika at the long table. —Also, I hate Miami traffic. I should’ve walked.—

—In those heels?— Alexandra Saint Mleux laughed, already pouring her a glass of wine. —We’d have to fish you out of the sidewalk.—

—At least I’d look hot.—

Everyone groaned.

—Anyway, tell me everything I missed— Amelie said as she settled in, brushing her hair over her shoulder. —Who’s crying, who’s cheating, who’s secretly eloping?—

—Honestly? No one’s cheating this week— Lily Zneimer shrugged, sipping her drink. —Kinda boring.—

—Pierre has been suspiciously nice— Kika raised an eyebrow. —That usually means he’s done something dumb.—

—Or he’s about to— Lily Muni added with a knowing smile.

—I swear to god, you all terrify me— Alexandra giggled. —If I were one of your boyfriends, I’d never sleep.—

—Who says we let them sleep?— Amelie said with a smirk.

That earned a round of gasps and laughter. Carmen nearly choked on her wine.

The conversation flowed easily after that. Talk of dresses, beach plans, who had the best hospitality suite (apparently Red Bull had an ice cream machine now?), and what the hell Charles had done to his hair this time. There was a warmth to these dinners — a kind of glittery solidarity only the WAGs really understood. Cameras, rumors, jet lag, late-night flights, early morning paddock call times — they got it.

And then, out of nowhere, Carmen said:

—I still can’t believe you’re finally moving to Monaco!—

Amelie blinked. —Huh?—

—I mean— Carmen continued, totally oblivious —it’s gonna be so fun to have you close. We can do beach days, wine nights, everything.—

—Wait, what?— Amelie’s voice went up slightly.

The table fell into a beat of silence. Lily Muni’s eyes widened. Alexandra pressed her lips together like someone holding in a secret. Kika looked at Carmen like she’d just stepped on a landmine.

—Oh my god— Carmen blinked, covering her mouth —you don’t know?—

Amelie tilted her head. —Know what?—

There was a long pause before Lily Muni He groaned.

—Fuck— she said softly.

—Carmen, you dumb bitch— Alexandra added, though not unkindly.

—Okay— Carmen whispered, eyes wide. —So like. Maybe Lando’s been… prepping a bit? Before asking you?—

—Prepping what?—

Lily Muni finally broke. —He’s been getting his Monaco place redone for you. Like, new closet space, skincare shelves, hair tools, new sheets you actually like—

—...a whole section in the kitchen for your matcha shit— Alexandra added.

—He made a mood board— Carmen said under her breath.

Amelie stared at them.

Her heart was doing this weird, skippy thing in her chest, as if it had missed the fucking memo.

—A mood board?— Amelie echoed, blinking. —Are you fucking serious?—

—Yes— Alexandra said, grinning into her wine glass. —And it was disgustingly cute. I saw it. He had, like, paint swatches and Post-its and photos of your kitchen in New York. There was a literal picture of your pink kettle, Ames. It had its own Post-it that said “non-negotiable.”—

—Shut up— Amelie whispered, suddenly feeling a little warm in the face.

—I’m not joking— Lily said, her smile softening. —He’s been asking us what makes a space feel like you. Like, actual questions. “What kind of lighting does Amelie like?” “Would she want a vanity here or here?” It’s been going on for weeks.—

—He even asked me to find the brand of those candles you love— Carmen chimed in, clearly trying to redeem herself —you know, the ones that smell like that fancy-ass hotel in Milan?—

—Oh my god— Amelie said again, quieter this time.

Her wine glass hovered in midair, untouched, her heart thudding against her ribs like it was trying to stage a jailbreak. Lando hadn’t said a word about this. Not even a hint. Not a single offhand comment. And now, here she was, in the middle of a table surrounded by half-drunk, glowy WAGs, finding out that her boyfriend had basically been quietly nesting.

For her.

—He hasn’t asked me— she said, her voice coming out a bit breathless, a bit shocked.

—Yet— Lily Muni said gently.

Kika leaned forward, both elbows on the table. —Honestly, I think he’s just nervous. He wanted everything to feel right before bringing it up. You know how he gets.—

—Obsessive— Alexandra muttered with a grin. —Meticulous. Slightly deranged.—

—In love— Carmen added, shrugging. —Let’s call it what it is.—

Amelie let out a laugh. A kind of stunned, disbelieving sound.

Her face was warm. Her chest was warmer.

Her stomach flipped. She reached for her wine, took a long sip.

—He’s such a little shit— she said eventually, voice fond. —Doing all this without telling me.—

—You love it— Lily Zneimer smirked.

—I do not love being ambushed with life news during dinner— Amelie said, narrowing her eyes. —But I might let it slide this once.—

The girls laughed again, and the conversation began to move on — someone brought up Hailey Bieber’s new weird baby name rumor, and Kika nearly spilled her drink laughing. But Amelie stayed quiet for a moment longer, her mind spinning a little too fast.

Lando wanted her to be there.

Not just in Monaco. With him.

And not in a vague, “you can crash at mine” kind of way. No, this was effort. Thought. Intention. He was making room for her in his world, literally and figuratively. He was building a place for her — and not just a physical one. A life.

God. He was so annoying.

So thoughtful. So annoying.

She was never going to recover from this.

-------------

liked by lanmelieorleave, f1gfdiaries, and others

amelieupdatee: Amelie Dayman via Instagram Stories — serving Miami heat in an orange dress on a balcony tonight 🍊🌆✨

She really said “Lanmelie orange core” and we’re eating it UP

View all 56,187 comments

lanmelie4life: orange dress??? miami??? balcony??? she’s not a wag she’s a WITCH → f1wagwatcher: @lanmelie4life she cast a spell on lando and ngl i support her

f1gfdiaries: amelie in orange is a PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT → trophygfenergy: @f1gfdiaries lando’s fav color + legs out = global peace

gridsidegossip: she ate and left no crumbs… again → lanosexylando: @gridsidegossip crumbs? she burned the whole table down omg

pitlaneprincess: not her hanging out with the WAGs like she hasn’t been main character since DAY ONE 😭

landosdelulu: lando seeing this story and running home IMMEDIATELY

girlsontrackkk: imagine showing up to dinner and AMELIE DAYMAN walks in dressed like THAT → mclarenmama: @girlssontrackkk i’d simply evaporate

lanmeliebrained: this isn’t even an outfit this is a THREAT

gridgf6969: SHE IS THE MOMENT. SHE IS THE GRID WIFE. → lanmeliecore: @gridgf6969 realest orange flag i’ve ever seen 🧡

wagsuniteplz: can we talk abt how she walked into that wag dinner and everyone else turned grayscale??

lanmelieorleave: orange dress?? balcony?? miami skyline?? we are DEEP in wag era → formulaglam: she’s not just a wag, she’s THE wag

f1itgirlies: this isn’t a dress, it’s a cultural reset → ameliestrut: @f1itgirlies miami was not ready for this level of serve 😮‍💨

wagsupremacyy: amelie and the wag dinner is like avengers assemble for hot girls → pitlaneprincess: @wagsupremacyy someone get them a reality show PLSSSSS

chaoticlanmelie: if this is what she wears for dinner i fear race day is gonna END US → miamigirlhot: @chaoticlanmelie the paddock ain’t surviving tmrw i’m telling u

spicygridtea: rumors who?? she showed up glowing, giggling, and gorgeous → lanfan321: @spicygridtea that’s the “my man’s obsessed w me” glow

-------------

The sky had already gone navy when Carmen pulled up in front of Amelie’s hotel.

The drive back had been mostly quiet, the air thick with unspoken thoughts and Carmen’s subtle glances from the corner of her eye. Amelie had been staring out the window, the golden glow of Miami’s nightlife flashing against her skin, her mind still swimming in mood boards, candle scents, and the image of her stupid pink kettle being labeled non-negotiable by the boy she loved.

—I’m sorry,— Carmen finally said, fingers tapping against the wheel. —I really didn’t mean to say it like that. I thought he’d already told you.—

Amelie blinked, then smiled softly. —It’s okay.—

—I just...he’s been planning this for months. He’s so excited. Like, he keeps checking delivery dates like a maniac. He wants it to be perfect for you.—

—I know,— Amelie said, voice quiet. —And… you don’t have to worry, Carm. I’m not going to say anything.—

Carmen blinked. —Wait, really?—

—Yeah,— Amelie nodded, unbuckling her seatbelt. —I’m gonna wait until he tells me. Properly. Whenever he’s ready.—

—You sure?— Carmen asked. —You don’t seem like the ‘wait patiently’ type.—

Amelie smirked. —I’m not. But I don’t want to ruin his plans. If he’s doing this whole thing, then I want to see it through his way. Let him have his big gesture moment.—

Carmen stared at her for a second, then grinned. —You’re disgustingly in love.—

—Tragically,— Amelie said as she opened the car door. —Thanks for the ride, Carm.—

—Anytime. And… sorry again for spilling the beans.—

Amelie shrugged playfully. —I’ll just blackmail you with it later.—

She shut the door, tugged her orange dress into place, and began walking toward the hotel entrance. A few fans stood nearby — some holding phones, others hesitating like they weren’t sure if it was really her.

When she smiled, it confirmed everything.

She took pictures with the ones who asked, signing a few notebooks, complimenting earrings, and laughing at a shy boy’s awkward compliment. Her heels clicked elegantly against the marble as she finally stepped into the lobby, nodding politely to the concierge who greeted her by name. She looked like she belonged here — in this city, in this chaos, in this exact moment. Radiant. Steady. Buzzing just under the surface.

The elevator ride was quiet, save for the faint hum of pop music leaking from the speakers. When the doors opened to the suite floor, she stepped out and walked straight to their door.

Key card. Beep. Click.

She opened the door to their suite and stepped inside.

The low lights inside the suite cast a warm golden hue across the space. It smelled faintly like her perfume and something clean—Lando’s cologne, probably. Her heels clicked softly against the hardwood as she crossed the living room, slipping them off by the couch with a sigh of relief.

Then she padded toward the bedroom, fingers already tugging at the back of her dress.

And there he was.

Lando, propped up against the headboard, still in his Quadrant hoodie and sweats, a tablet in his lap. Data charts glowed on the screen, his brow slightly furrowed, hair fluffy from a shower and the kind of relaxed focus he only ever wore when he thought no one was watching.

He looked up at the sound of the door creaking.

His gaze snagged on her immediately—and his expression changed like someone had punched the breath out of him.

—Fuck,— he muttered, setting the tablet aside. —You look hot.—

Amelie tilted her head, smiling slowly. —I always look hot, darling.—

Lando grinned, biting his bottom lip slightly, eyes trailing shamelessly over her figure. The orange dress hugged her curves like it had been painted on, dipping low in the back, stopping just short of indecent. Her hair was tousled from the breeze, her skin glowing from wine and laughter and just… existing.

He held out a hand, and she crossed to him, turning around so her back faced him.

—Help me untie it?— she asked.

He was already sitting up straighter, fingers gentle as they worked at the delicate ties along her spine.

—You really do wear these to torture me, don’t you?— he murmured, voice low, warm against her skin.

—Maybe,— she hummed, tilting her head to the side.

Once the knot was undone, his lips found her back, soft and slow. A trail of small kisses up her spine. One on the nape of her neck. One on her shoulder.

She closed her eyes briefly. Let herself melt for a moment. Then...

—I’m gonna wash my face before I crawl into your lap,— she said over her shoulder, stepping away.

Lando let out a dramatic sigh. —Tease.—

She disappeared into the bathroom, flicking the light on and getting to work. The usual: double cleanse, toner, serum, the lavender moisturizer Lando claimed “smelled like sleep.” She changed into one of his old t-shirts, brushed her hair back, and took a breath before turning the light off.

When she returned, Lando was still there—legs stretched out, shirt slightly rumpled, that same soft look in his eyes when he saw her again.

She climbed into bed beside him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And then she curled into his side, one hand splaying against his chest, the other dragging lazily up under the hem of his hoodie. Fingers tracing the faint ridges of muscle, the smooth skin just above his waistband.

—Someone’s handsy tonight,— he murmured, kissing the top of her head.

—I just missed you,— she said, voice quiet now.

But the truth thudded inside her louder than she could bear.

She loved him.

So much it almost hurt. She felt it in the way she touched him, in the way she couldn’t stop looking at him, couldn’t stop reaching. It was bubbling just beneath the surface, raw and bright and real.

And he noticed.

Of course he noticed.

Lando turned a little, shifting so he could look at her properly. His thumb brushed her cheek. Her lips. Her jaw.

—You okay?— he asked softly.

She nodded, smile blooming slow and real. —I’m really happy.—

His brows lifted just slightly, amused and tender. —Yeah?—

—Yeah,— she said, curling into his chest again. —I just… can’t believe we’re here. Finally. Like this.—

Lando wrapped his arms around her, his chin resting on the top of her head.

Neither of them said anything for a long moment.

She could tell him. She could say it right now.

But she didn’t.

Not yet.

Because this was enough. This closeness. This bed. This ridiculous hoodie that smelled like home. This love she hadn’t even fully spoken out loud yet but was already living in every day.

She could wait.

She wanted to see what he had planned.

She wanted to say yes to all of it when he finally asked.

But tonight?

Tonight she would fall asleep wrapped in him, heart racing, lips smiling, knowing she’d never loved someone like this before.

And that she never would again.

-------------

liked by chaoticwags, f1teaparty, and others

f1wagsupdates: Amelie Dayman has officially entered the paddock for the final time this weekend — and she’s ending it with a silk baby blue slay 💎✨

The long dress, the wind in her hair, the soft glam?? It’s giving Old Hollywood at the Grand Prix and we are obsessed.

gridgfmaterial: she said ✨final boss energy✨ and meant it

pitlanepeaches: someone get security she’s about to cause incidents on and off track → landosnumberone: @pitlanepeaches FIA needs to ban her from looking this good tbh

lanfanclubbb: baby blue silk??? miss girl really woke up and chose ✨wifey aesthetic✨ → wagsupreme: @lanfanclubbb she didn’t dress for the race she dressed for the afterparty 😮‍💨

chaoticwags: lando locking in p1 just bc he saw her walk in like that 😭 → norisimp: @chaoticwags he’s manifesting podium kisses and i support him

paddockbaddies: lanmelie forever got the paddock in a chokehold → daymanlvr: @paddockbaddies if this is her last look of the weekend she went out SWINGING

formulafairytales: i can’t even joke anymore like she’s actually breathtaking bye

lanmeliefanclub: baby blue for the baby girl 😭💙 → pitlanebaddie: @lanmeliefanclub lando’s gonna propose with that color in mind WATCH

softlaunchsupreme: she said “last look of the weekend” and SERVEDDDD → drsdiva: @softlaunchsupreme the other wags had to move aside sry

gridgirlera: lando when he sees her: “guys my engine’s overheating” → lanmeliebrainrot: @gridgirlera not the ONLY thing overheating

f1teaparty: “baby blue silk dress” is now my entire personality. thanks amelie. → ameliesimpact: @f1teaparty she’s the reason miami humidity spiked be fr

norrisbabywife: he’s 100% pacing in the garage like “do NOT let me fumble this woman” → gridgossipgirl: @norrisbabywife mclaren gotta duct tape him to the seat fr 😭

pitlaneangel: the dress. the glow. the hair. i just know lando’s breathing different rn

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The Miami sun was merciless, but Lando didn’t care. Not today. He was still riding the high from the absolute chaos that was the drivers’ parade—LEGO cars this time, for some goddamn reason, and honestly, it had been hilarious. Charles had crashed into Carlos, Carlos had swerved into George, and Lando had done at least three unnecessary donuts just because he could. The fans were loving it. He was loving it.

Now, walking back toward the McLaren hospitality with Jon at his side and his bodyguard trailing just a step behind, he was still buzzing. Sunglasses pushed up his nose, hair sweaty under his cap, his suit unzipped halfway down his torso, Lando kept a grin on his face as fans called out to him from behind the barriers.

—Lando, can you sign my cap?— —Can I get a quick video for my brother?— —Landoooo, you're gonna win again, baby!—

He stopped here and there, signing autographs as he walked, never fully stopping, just doing the multitasking dance he’d perfected over the years. His team kept him moving, but he made eye contact, smiled, even complimented someone’s bucket hat that looked suspiciously like one he’d lost in 2021.

But then—he looked up.

And his whole mood shifted.

Amelie.

She was sitting outside McLaren hospitality, right in the shade of one of the massive umbrellas, legs crossed under the table like she belonged there—because she did—but it wasn’t her being there that threw him. It was who she was with.

Mick fucking Schumacher.

Lando’s jaw clenched so hard Jon noticed, shooting him a brief side glance, but didn’t say anything. Mick had his sunglasses perched on his head, leaning just a little too far across the table, laughing at something Amelie had said. She was laughing too—head tilted back slightly, hand to her chest, her golden brown skin glowing in the Miami sun, hair pulled up in a messy bun that Lando knew she hadn’t put any effort into but still looked unfairly perfect.

He felt it. That small, stupid, primitive flare in his chest. Jealousy.

He didn’t even try to rationalize it. He didn’t care that Mick had a girlfriend for ages, or that things never happened between them beyond that one date back in 2021, or that Amelie had never once said anything remotely flirty about Mick. All Lando could think about was how Mick used to beg him—beg him—to set them up, back when Amelie and Lando were just friends and Mick didn’t know that every time he looked at her, Lando wanted to rip the goddamn sky in half.

Now he was newly single.

And sitting with his girlfriend.

Fuck that.

He was supposed to go inside, back to his driver room, get water, debrief, whatever. But instead, he changed direction with zero hesitation, heading straight for them like a magnet being pulled. Jon didn’t question it—just kept up—but Lando heard the slight shuffle of his bodyguard adjusting position, aware of the trajectory change.

Amelie spotted him first.

Her face lit up the second her eyes landed on him. That smile—her real one, not the press one—spread slow and wide across her face like it couldn’t be helped, and her hand shot up to shield her eyes from the sun as she called out, voice teasing.

—You finally done crashing into your coworkers, Lan? Or are they still picking up the LEGO bricks you left behind?—

Lando smirked, his jealousy softening but still prickling beneath the surface. He came to a stop right by her chair, eyes flicking briefly toward Mick with a polite-enough nod, but all his attention honed in on her.

—Carlos started it, for the record,— he said, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head like it was nothing. Like it was normal. —I was an innocent bystander in the great LEGO massacre of 2025.—

—Innocent?— she snorted, leaning back in her seat with that amused glint in her eyes. —You literally did donuts in a plastic car, Lan.—

—They were strategic donuts. Psychological warfare.—

Mick laughed, but it sounded awkward now. Lando didn’t look at him again. He was already tugging a chair from the next table and dropping himself beside Amelie, legs splayed, one arm resting behind her on the back of her chair like he’d been invited to sit there—which he hadn’t, but she didn’t seem to mind.

If anything, she leaned into the arm a little.

—You looked good out there,— she added more softly, brushing something off the collar of his fire suit. —Sweaty. But hot.—

—You telling me you’ve got a thing for melted Brits in race suits, Ames? That’s your type?—

—Mm-hmm. Melting, dramatic, chaotic. And a little possessive,— she added, glancing sideways at him knowingly.

Busted.

Lando raised a brow. —Possessive? Me? Never.—

Amelie turned to Mick then, and bless her, because she did it with such perfect timing and casual grace that Lando could’ve kissed her right there.

—Mick, thanks for the drink. I’ll see you around the paddock?—

Mick looked between them—between the casually territorial arm draped behind her and the way she was looking at Lando like he’d just hung the moon—and gave a tight-lipped smile.

—Yeah, sure. Good luck today, mate.—

—Cheers,— Lando said, all polite teeth.

They watched him leave, Amelie sipping what was left of her iced tea, and only when he was far enough did she speak.

—You gonna mark your territory next by peeing in a circle around me?—

Lando tilted his head toward her with a dangerous smile. —Don’t tempt me, baby.—

She laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder, and he pressed a kiss to her temple without thinking. It was natural now. Normal. They weren’t hiding anymore.

—So… Mick, huh?— he said casually, but his tone betrayed him. He didn’t mean to sound like a jealous dick. It just slipped.

Amelie lifted her head, raising a brow. —Seriously? Lan. It was just a drink. He was already sitting there when I arrived. I was literally killing time while you LEGO-ed your way around the circuit.—

He made a face. —You two went on a date once.—

She narrowed her eyes. —In 2021. And it was one date. Nothing happened. You know why? Because I spent the whole dinner thinking about someone else.—

That got his attention.

—Yeah? Who?—

Her gaze dropped to his lips, then lifted again—slow, deliberate. Her voice dipped just slightly, teasing but honest.

—This British guy. Really annoying. Always made me laugh when I didn’t want to. Had a stupid cute smile and a god complex in a go-kart.—

Lando’s smirk returned, lazy and triumphant. —Sounds like a catch.—

—He was also really fucking oblivious,— she added, tipping her chin up. —Like, criminally dense. Took him three years to date me properly.—

—Oi,— he grinned, —I was playing the long game.—

—No, you were playing FIFA.—

He laughed, the kind that shook his shoulders and made her grin back just from the sound. God, she loved that sound. And maybe he knew it, because his hand dropped from the back of her chair to the small of her back, fingers splaying wide like he needed to be touching as much of her as possible now that she was there.

They sat there a moment, the Miami paddock buzzing around them, heat radiating off the asphalt, the scent of sunscreen and fuel lingering in the air. But for a second, it was just the two of them, tucked into this little pocket of calm.

Lando tilted his head to the side as he watched her. The noise of the paddock seemed to dim under the weight of her stare—the way she looked at him like he was the only one here, even in the middle of a Grand Prix weekend. He hated how much he still got butterflies when she did that. Hated it and loved it.

She leaned forward, fingers brushing his knee beneath the table. Her voice was quieter now.

—You okay? You’ve gone all serious on me.—

He exhaled through his nose, glancing toward the hospitality doors like the answer was hidden somewhere behind them.

—I’m nervous, Ames. Like... proper nerves. I know I shouldn’t be. Won last year, know the car’s strong, I’ve done the prep and the sim runs and all that, but... fuck, it’s Miami. It’s all eyes on us now. On me.—

Amelie didn’t say anything at first. Just nodded slowly, fingers curling into the fabric of his suit near his thigh like she could ground him with just that small point of contact.

Then she leaned in and kissed his cheek. Soft and lingering. Not rushed, not performative. Just... full of everything she didn’t need words to say.

—Lan,— she whispered against his skin, —no matter what happens out there today... we’re already so proud of you. You hear me? Not because of a trophy. Just because you’ve made it here. You’ve done all of it. And you’re still this good, this kind, this ridiculous little chaos man I love. So, yeah. We’re already proud.—

He closed his eyes for half a second, just breathing her in. Sunscreen and iced tea and the faintest trace of her perfume, like vanilla and orange blossom. It was grounding. Centering.

And then he kissed her.

It was quick, not because he wanted it to be, but because they were still in public, still surrounded. His hand found the side of her face, thumb brushing her jaw, and he kissed her like it was the only thing that would keep him calm.

She smiled against his lips.

But before either of them could say something cheeky—or worse, sappy—a familiar voice interrupted with full, theatrical volume.

—Oi, Christ, I leave you two alone for five minutes and now you’re snogging like it’s your last day on Earth. Again.—

Alex Wolff slid into the chair Mick had been in earlier, plopping his coffee cup on the table like he hadn’t just been gone for two hours on the world’s longest caffeine hunt. He smirked at both of them, dramatically adjusting his sunglasses.

—Honestly, you two are like horny teenagers. Have some shame.—

Amelie laughed, rolling her eyes. —You’re one to talk. You once made out with someone in a Starbucks bathroom, remember?—

—It was private property! — Alex pointed out, completely unbothered. —Also, you two were dangerously close to eye-fucking each other when I walked up, so don’t even.—

Lando groaned but smiled, standing up and brushing off his race suit. He glanced at his watch. Time to go.

He looked at Amelie one last time, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear with that stupidly soft look in his eyes that still made her insides twist.

—Thanks, baby. For being here.—

—Always.—

He dipped down, gave her one last, quick kiss—this one to the corner of her mouth, because he knew it made her giggle—and then jogged off toward hospitality, heat still radiating from his cheeks, heart pounding not from nerves anymore, but from love.

And behind him, Amelie sat with Alex, watching him go.

God, she fucking loved that man.

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liked by lanmeliecore, wagswithwifi, and others

f1gossipgrid: SPOTTED: Amelie Dayman & Mick Schumacher seen chatting one-on-one at the McLaren hospitality today in Miami. Fans at the paddock say the convo looked "very smiley, very friendly" — just old friends catching up? Or something more to it? 👁️👁️

View all 97,014 comments

f1loverr22: Omg Lando, we SEE you. Mick's gotta go, babe! 😂

lanmeliecore: i just KNOW lando saw this and teleported through 3 walls and 2 interns → mclarenjawn: @lanmeliecore he was halfway into an ice bath and SPRINTED → wifeyforlando: @lanmeliecore "mick. hi. bye." ☠️

lanmeliecore: not the 2021 one-date tension resurrecting in 4k 💀 → amelieslashes: @lanmeliecore lando better be breathing deep rn bc I would start a scene → gridgirlera: @lanmeliecore imagine ur bf walks in and sees u giggling w mick schumacher i’d fake an engine failure

tracksidegossip: be fr if lando saw this he’s in the gym lifting tractors rn → pitlaneclownery: @trackisdegood 😭 crying in creatine and jealousy → ameliesrings: @trackisdegood he already posted a thirst trap on close friends i just KNOW it

wagsupreme: ok but what if mick just wants styling tips like leave my girl alone 😭 → lanmelie4eva: nah bc she’s so mother she got mick in a side quest

debriefanddestroy: lando watching that convo like it’s VAR footage

lanmeliebrainrot: lando seeing this and suddenly driving 10x faster 😭 → gridgf: @lanmeliebrainrot bro’s fighting for pole and his girl 💀 → mclarenfeminist: @gridgf he got that jealousy boost 😭

micksbabyblueeyes: y’all it was ONE date in 2021 pls be serious 😭 → ameliedefensesquad: @micksbabyblueeyes fr and she never went back 💅

f1slayupdates: no bc why is this giving high school hallway tension → sydneyplsleak: @f1slayupdates tell me they didn’t just say “long time no see” omg

wagswithwifi: lando’s abt to “accidentally” crash into the mclaren hospitality tent 😭 → crashingforclout: @wagswithwifi mclaren gonna have to issue a statement 😭

lovewins24: anyway lando’s still the one going home with her soooo 💅 → chaoticblonde: @lovewins24 AND he got her name tattooed, mick could never 😭 → lanmeliedaily: @chaoticblonde exactly. that tiny “A” holds more power than my degree

-------------

The celebration was loud, chaotic, and bursting with orange and papaya pride. McLaren’s hospitality buzzed with champagne corks and team shouts, a sea of proud engineers and media swirling around Oscar Piastri and Lando Norris after a spectacular 1-2 finish. Cameras flashed, microphones were shoved in his face, and questions flew like sparks from a fire.

But Lando felt... nothing.

He smiled through it. Said the right things. Thanked the team. Congratulated Oscar—who had driven brilliantly, he couldn’t deny that. But somewhere deep in his chest, under the weight of his fireproofs and adrenaline crash, something had started to ache.

Because it wasn’t just today.

It had been happening for a while now—subtle, quiet moments where Oscar’s side of the garage got the newest upgrades first, where his setups were prioritized in briefings, where even the race strategies felt just slightly tilted. He was Lando fucking Norris. He’d been loyal. He’d bled McLaren for years. And yet... sometimes he felt like he was fading into the background.

Second place should’ve felt good.

But it didn’t.

Not when you were constantly wondering if you were second in more ways than one.

By the time he ducked into his driver room, the applause behind him was muffled. He shut the door. Locked it. Then stood there in silence.

Helmet still in hand. Jaw tight.

He didn’t speak. Just peeled off his race suit like it weighed double today, stepping under the shower with water so hot it bordered on punishment. The steam filled the space, fogging the mirror, hiding the disappointment etched into his face.

He didn’t bother styling his hair or fixing the towel properly around his neck. Just threw on a black tee, McLaren logo barely visible in the dim lighting, and jeans. Backpack slung over one shoulder, cap pulled low over his eyes.

When he finally stepped out into the paddock again, it was nearly empty. The Miami heat had cooled into a humid haze, the sun dipping low. The team had moved on to debriefs or bars. All that remained were a few F1 employees sweeping up confetti and folding chairs.

And that’s when he saw her.

Amelie. Sitting at a plastic table near the McLaren trucks, legs curled under her, hair in a loose braid. She was with Alex and Minnie, the three of them sharing what looked like leftover tiramisu and laughing at something on Minnie’s phone.

But a few meters away, at a nearby table, were Max Fewtrell and Pietra.

Lando’s stomach turned.

They hadn’t talked properly in weeks. Not since the Comporta gossip blew up. Amelie had kept her distance—polite, but distant—whenever Max or Pietra showed up. And now here they were, just... there.

Lando gave Max a small, stiff nod. Max returned it without a smile.

He walked straight to Amelie.

She looked up and instantly, her expression shifted. She saw it. Whatever this was on his face—quiet, low, off—she saw it like a flashing light.

—Lan,— she said gently, pushing back from the table. —Hey. What happened?—

He didn’t answer. Just dropped down beside her, letting his body fold into the chair like it weighed more than usual. She laid a hand on his thigh, rubbing small circles with her thumb.

Alex and Minnie made awkward eye contact across the table.

—You okay?— she tried again, quieter now.

Still, nothing.

She knew that look. He wasn’t angry. He was shutting down. Too many thoughts. Too many questions he wouldn’t say aloud. Maybe he thought saying them out loud made them real.

She leaned closer, tucking a strand of his hair back under his cap. —You wanna talk about it?—

Lando shook his head once. Barely.

—Did Oscar say anything? Or Zak?—

Another shake. His jaw clenched. Her thumb paused for a second, then kept moving. Gentle. Warm. Anchoring.

She glanced toward the nearly empty pit lane, then back at him. And her brain clicked into gear.

Fine. If he wouldn’t talk, she’d do something.

Amelie straightened up, a glint sparking in her eyes. She turned to Alex.

—Hey, Al, how fast do you think those stupid Lego parade cars go?—

Alex blinked. —Uh… fast enough to break a toe, slow enough to avoid jail. Why?—

Amelie grinned. —Perfect. Let’s steal them.—

—What?— Minnie said, already laughing.

—Come on,— she said, grabbing Lando’s hand and standing. —Let’s break every single FIA rule about off-track behavior and grand theft tiny automobile.—

Lando looked up at her, confused. —What are you talking about?—

—We’re going for a drive,— she declared, yanking him up. —Come on. You, me, Alex, Minnie. Max and Pietra too.—

His eyes flickered. —You serious?—

—Deadly.— She kissed his cheek. —You drive. I’ll scream encouragement. Maybe some Taylor Swift.—

Alex was already on his feet. —Oh, this is the best idea you’ve had since putting vodka in Capri Suns.—

Minnie cackled. —I still have a scar from that night.—

Amelie turned toward Max and Pietra’s table. Her stomach gave a little twist, but she shoved it down. Time for olive branches, even if they were made of plastic and racing decals.

—Oi, Fewtrell,— she called. Max looked over warily. —You two coming or what?—

Pietra raised an eyebrow. —Coming where?—

—To steal the Lego cars and drive them around the track like idiots. Let’s break something.—

Max glanced at Lando, then back at Amelie. A pause. Then he stood, brushing off his pants.

—Only if I get Red Bull. I’m not driving a Ferrari like a peasant.—

—You wish you were that fast,— Alex quipped.

They were moving before Lando could fully process it. Somehow, a minute later, he was sitting behind the tiny plastic wheel of the McLaren parade car, Amelie climbing in beside him and draping her legs over his lap like it was the most normal thing in the world.

—You okay with this?— she asked softly, hand on the side of his face.

He blinked at her. And then—finally—his mouth twitched.

—Only if I get to crash into Max.—

—That’s my boy.—

Max revved the Red Bull car beside them like he was in a Fast & Furious reboot, Pietra already filming him with her phone, hair whipping around. Alex and Minnie were arguing about whether the Ferrari had a working horn.

—Let’s go, papaya princess,— Amelie whispered, and Lando pressed the gas.

The electric motor made the saddest whirring noise. The McLaren inched forward.

—This is the dumbest shit I’ve ever done,— Lando muttered.

—But are you smiling?—

He looked at her. The wind pulled her braid loose. Her nose was sunburnt. Her eyes were nothing but warmth.

And yeah. He smiled.

They made it halfway down the straight before Alex tried to sideswipe them. Minnie screamed like she was in a rollercoaster. Max cut them off dramatically at Turn 4, yelling, —Eat shit, Norris!— before losing a wheel on a curb.

—YOU'RE PAYING FOR THAT!— Lando shouted back, laughing for the first time that day.

Amelie threw her arms up and yelled, —THIS IS FOR THE PEOPLE!!—

They looped the entire circuit. Hit barriers. Bounced over curbs. Someone lost a shoe. Two of the cars were dented. None of them cared.

And when they finally skidded to a stop at the finish line—Lando dragging the McLaren sideways just for flair—he dropped his head back, panting and grinning.

Amelie leaned over and kissed his cheek. Then his jaw. Then right behind his ear, where she knew it made him melt.

—Better?— she whispered.

He nodded, eyes closed. —Yeah.—

—Good. You’re not second to anyone, Lando.—

He looked at her. Really looked. Her smile, all mischief and moonlight. Her hands, paint-chipped nails and warm against his chest.

He leaned in and kissed her.

And for the first time that weekend, he felt like himself again.

—Still gonna run Max over on the way out though,— he mumbled.

—Please do. I’ll film it.—

She did.

-------------

liked by pinksuitlando, wagswithwifi, and others

lanmelieupdates: Lando and Amelie were spotted getting on her jet tonight in Miami 👀✈️✨ They’ve been inseparable all weekend and now off to who-knows-where… Lanmelie world tour continues 🧡💛

View all 37,810 comments

glamgridgirl: NOT THE LANMELIE JET OMGG ARE WE GETTING A MET GALA DEBUT??? → pitlaneprincess: @glamgridgirl if lando wears a tux next to her in couture i’m gonna combust → softielan: @pitlaneprincess manifesting her in custom Mugler and him just standing there like 😍

wagsupreme: they’re so unserious for being this hot together → lanfan69: @wagsupreme not a single ugly cell between them. criminal. → f1cupid: @lanfan69 lando be lookin like her security + #1 fan and i LOVE IT

metgalamegafan: IF LANDO SHOWS UP I’LL EAT MY SHOE → cheekypaddock: @metgalamegafan you better start boiling the water then bc it’s happening → paddockslut: @cheekypaddock we feasting fr

lanmeliehearts: imagine the fits. the hand holding. the chaos. → daydreamdri: @lanmeliehearts and the afterparty pics? my soul isn’t ready

lanielovr: he better not skip like last year i’m STILL healing → f1gossipmama: @lanielovr babes they’re literally teasing us i fear we’re NOT surviving this one

pinksuitlando: lando blinking at flashing cameras like a confused labrador while she eats the carpet up 😭😭 → gridwives: @pinksuitlando the duality of man and mother. iconic.

lanlover24: MET GALA MET GALA MET GALA I’M ON MY KNEES → gridgirlgc: @lanlover24 if he shows up in a suit next to her i’m gonna scream into the void → wifeydayman: @lanlover24 bro he’s gonna match her dress colors watch😭

f1hotgirlenergy: lando pls don’t fumble this MET MOMENT

pastelsinz: imagine the hand on her waist. the LOOKS. the PHOTOS. i’m not okay → paddockbarbie: @pastelsinz that man’s already halfway in love, met gala will finish him off 💅

lanmeliedefenseunit: ik damn well Lando would sit thru 5 hours of glam for her → bigdayformclaren: @lanmeliedefenseunit man would get a full facial

f1fangirl203: if we don’t get lanmelie at the Met idc cancel the whole event

-------------

The McLaren hoodie Lando wore was crumpled from sleep, the sleeves pulled over his hands as he slumped deeper into the jet’s cream leather seat. The Miami skyline had long since disappeared behind them, and the hum of the engines was steady, soft—background noise for thoughts too loud.

They were halfway to New York.

Amelie had changed into a baggy matching set—charcoal grey with the words I am so tired embroidered in cursive over her chest. Her feet were bare, curled up under her on the seat across from him. She sipped ginger tea slowly, watching him.

He hadn’t said much since takeoff.

Lando stared out the window, eyes unreadable under the brim of his cap. She knew he wasn't actually seeing the clouds.

His phone was face-down on the table between them, as if he couldn’t bear to look at it. She’d seen it though. Everyone had. The post from McLaren—celebrating the 1-2 finish. Oscar in the center, Zak beside him, mechanics with arms raised, a flood of papaya orange.

And Lando?

Not even cropped out.

Just… not there.

She hadn’t said anything at the time. Just took his hand when he wordlessly walked away from the airport hangar and let him curl up against her on the plane like the weight of his fireproofs had never really come off.

Now, miles above the world, she reached over and gently tapped her foot against his leg.

He glanced over.

—Still mad at the clouds?— she teased softly.

He huffed a laugh through his nose. Barely.

She set her tea down and pulled her knees to her chest, chin resting on them. —You want to talk about it now? Or should I distract you with conspiracy theories about Karlie Kloss at the Met Gala?—

Lando let out a dry, crooked smile. —How do you even know Karlie Kloss conspiracy theories?—

—I have Twitter. I’m terminally online. But I’d rather talk about you.—

His gaze drifted down to his fingers, fidgeting with the drawstring on his hoodie.

—It’s just…— He hesitated. Voice rough from not using it much. —It’s not just today. It’s everything lately. I feel like... I’m always the one getting pushed back. Priorities, upgrades, briefings. Feels like Oscar’s the shiny new toy and I’m just... comfortably average.—

She straightened, her brows knitting. —Lando, you’re not average. You’re the reason half of McLaren’s success in the past years even exists.—

—Yeah, but it doesn’t feel like that lately.— He looked at her now, properly. Eyes raw. Honest. —Yesterday I won the Sprint, held off Max in Quali, fought back to P2 in the race after being pushed off track. And I still didn’t feel like the story. Not once.—

She moved to the seat beside him, pulling his hand into hers. Her fingers found the grooves between his knuckles.

—Because they made Oscar the face of the win.—

He nodded. —And that stupid post just proved it. It’s like I wasn’t even there.—

Amelie exhaled, slow and controlled. Her thumb brushed over the back of his hand. —I saw it. I hated it. And I’m sorry. You deserve better. From the team, from the people around you, from the fucking internet.—

He gave her a small, tired smile. —Even from the social media interns?—

—Especially them.— Her voice sharpened. —You gave them everything. Loyalty, sweat, literal years of your life. If they can’t even acknowledge that, they don’t deserve you.—

He looked away again. Eyes unfocused.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, voice lower. —But I see you. You hear me? Every corner you fight for. Every time you bring the car home when no one else could. The way you lead that team without even realizing it. I see you, Lando.—

His throat moved as he swallowed.

—You’re not invisible. And if they start treating you like you are... then maybe it’s time to ask yourself whether it’s worth it anymore.—

That landed with a quiet weight.

She let it sit between them.

Eventually, he spoke again. —I’ve been thinking about that. About what comes next. What if they don’t see me the way I thought they did? What if I’m just... not part of the plan anymore?—

Amelie reached up and cupped his face, turning him toward her.

—Then you make your own plan. You're not a pawn on anyone’s board, Lan. You’re the whole damn game.—

A beat.

His eyes closed, just for a second. Like her words sank deeper than they were supposed to. Then he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers.

—Thanks for stealing the Lego car with me.—

She grinned. —Always. In crime and in chaos.—

He laughed quietly, then leaned back in his seat, finally—finally—looking lighter.

And as the lights of the city began to blink beneath them through the clouds, Amelie curled into his side and whispered:

—You’re not in anyone’s shadow, Lan. Not when you shine this bright.—

And maybe, just maybe, he started to believe it.

[grimowled]

[avalencias]

man the weirdest thing about 2024 so far is my nyquil induced dreams this time meant I dreamt about lexa. in the year of our lord 2024!!!!!!

[baepsays]

I'D GIVE YOU EVERYTHING (I JUST WANT TO SEE YOU WIN) ‧₊˚𓇢𓆸 ⸻ clan head Gojo

CHAPTER TWO: Lady Gojo

𓍯𓂃 pairing⋙ post Shinjuku clan leader Gojo x non-sorcerer reader

𓍯𓂃 description⋙ navigating a married life is hard enough, it is harder when you know nothing about your husband other than his heroic scars and dizzying smile.

𓆰𓆪 cw in this chapter⋙ canon divergence, NSFW, MDNI, clan and jujutsu world politics, arranged marriage, husband Gojo, Gojo with scars, one sided conflict, one sided pining, eventually both sided pining, so much yearning, slow burn, in a sort of eccentric way ngl, suggestive stuff, they are both a little stupid about e/o, misogyny (not by Gojo), dysfunctional families, fem oriented reader, use of she/her pronouns, angst, some fluff, eventually fully, Mr. wife guy (non derogatory), condescending Gojo, this is quite an angsty chapter, lots of unhealed trauma, childhood abuse, physical abuse, mention of food, throwing up, riddled with insecurity, mention of death, blood, he is an idiot.

𓍯𓂃 a/n: art in the header by @/RUEheree on twt. honestly i do not think this is as sad as i am making it to be, lol it could be worse. and maybe it will get worse idk? anyway hope you have fun reading <3

word count: 8.1k

SERIES MASTERLIST ‖ <<PREVIOUS CHAPTER . NEXT CHAPTER>>soon!

People usually have a lot of expectations about the first day after their wedding. Things like sleeping in, making breakfast together, and having sex. Or go on a honeymoon, where you have more sex, to somewhere more scenic. 

Unfortunately this was not a very usual marriage that you have stumbled upon. Being the lady of the Gojo clan was huge in and of itself, but when you are married to Gojo Satoru on top of that, the living enigma—it is hard to say if you can exist in the shadows anymore.

It was daunting, to say the least, being the center of everyone’s scrutiny and attention. Entirety of thirty six hours have gone by, with you becoming the new lady Gojo, standing beside Satoru, and trying not to get eclipsed by him. Which is a flawed expression of words when there stood the same amount of distance between you two, as the sun and the moon—you have spent some easier thirty six days in your life compared to these last thirty six hours.

Mere thirty six hours, and you have somehow driven your husband further away from you than the preexisting light years of difference between you two.

All you did was, do as you were told. And yet here you were. Somehow things just do not work out for you even when you do as instructed. Neither do they work out when you try to go against the grain.

There has always been a misfit piece of puzzle handed to you, and when you try to forcibly jam it in, everyone seems to get more mad at you. But what can you do with the hand of cards you were dealt with? You play them. But when those cards do not seem to win you anything, how late are you to back away from these games?

What are you to do when your husband calls you wrong for trying to live up to the expectations of the society, your gender, and your respective families? If only you truly knew the answers to all these questions, which are far bigger in the grand scheme of things, than your head could comprehend.

And now it is a lifetime of fumbling around, until you are yet again able to become translucent enough to be ignored for the rest of time. 

You predict that your penchant for wanderlust into the pits of anxiety at this huge table, expanding along with the stretch of the entire room, would be a common occurring theme. Especially with the lack of a husband opposite you on the dining table, and an absence of appetite for the array of delicious food in front of you. Far too much for you to finish by yourself, and far too precious to disappoint the chef; who came up to you and introduced himself to you with the sweetest most welcoming smile that you have been offered by someone in a while. 

“I hope you enjoy everything Gojo-san, Gojo-sama specially requested everything to be made to your liking. ” Was all he said before he disappeared back into the kitchen. 

So you did your best. To finish as much as you could, at the very least, to try a bite out of everything chef Suzuki prepared, especially for you, apparently with your husband’s special request.

Even though he, himself, was not available to eat a proper meal with you under his roof. He made sure the food was catered to your preference, he most likely got the intel from your mother or someone else, because there was barely anything you could swallow down your throat without almost regurgitating it. 

You have spent your life in the confines of your father’s estate trying to mold into a perfectly eligible lady for a clan head to wed off. And that required a very specific diet and taste. Which unfortunately you never really became fond of, nor did you get accustomed to. You distinctly remember how as a child when you threw a tantrum at the dining table, for not wanting to eat the same soup you were chugging down currently, you were left to starve the entire night instead.

The lashes of thin bamboo leaving red marks all over your arms, were still fresh in your memories. And when the sweet grandma who did your laundry, and her grandson, sneaked in some packaged chips for you—you remember how hard you cried for two days and fell ill, not because of the lashes you got as punishment, but because your one and only childhood friend, and his grandmother, the elderly lady who actually treated you like a child, were dismissed and driven out of your clan's estate without a single thought. 

You do not want to repeat those mistakes again. One wrong move by you could have someone pay for it with their entire livelihood. Who knows if Gojo Satoru will even spare the chef his life. You have heard how much of a cruel man he is behind his suave facade, and you did not want to unmask that.

But how sure were you that the mask was not already being chipped away at? After the events of last night and this morning, you were not sure about your position in this game, what move to make next. Everything you know about the rules; the rights and wrongs, were all backfiring. 

So the wisest thing to do here, is to sit pretty and do as you are told.

The first seven days after the wedding were monotonous to say the least, and somber to say the most. The tour of the estate took about almost three days, and even then you could only explore the entirety of the right wing’s ground floor and some parts in the center, leaving behind at least more than sixty percent of the property unexplored. And you were left too tired and too overwhelmed to finish the rest of it. So you simply told the ladies appointed to show you around, that,

‘I have a lifetime to familiarize myself with the entirety of it.’

Sure the nervous chuckle you gave them before turning on your feet and heading towards the opposite direction, seemed innocent and endearing enough for them to spread the word—that how happy their madame is to be here! 

But the truth couldn't be further from that. 

To simply put it, it was too frightening. And it felt like you were crossing some sort of imaginary boundary. In these last three days, you've been confined to the right side, and some partial space in the center of the building. And it felt like that's all you've been permitted access to, because that's how it has always been. In fact this was more than what you've been brought up with. Sure, your parental home isn't as vast and huge as your husband's, but even then it was huge in size compared to what you think most normal houses are. And you've only been able to walk through only some of the halls of the place which was meant to be your home.

For a place which you wanted to call your home, it sure never felt like it. Whenever you wandered anywhere other than the library you cherished, your own room, and the gardens, and some other sitting rooms; you were given stern punishments. Eventually the unknown nooks and crannies of your own house became not worth the stinging red lines on the palm of your hands, or the little amount of food that was served to your room.

So naturally, when Satoru carried you in through the main entrance, and walked through the halls to get to your room, you associated that selected path, and area as your newfound boundary. Even the stairs leading to the second story of the mansion was too forbidden of sorts, for you to walk up to.

So part of the reason why you are yet to tour the entire estate was this, and the other part was that you were not ready to stumble into your husband in these halls. 

Even if it's your shared property, it's not your home. It's his, it's all his. And how dare you step a foot on something of his without proper permission? You should just be thankful enough to have been given so much, and it'd just be too greedy to ask for more.

So you left your husband to himself, and left him alone with some of the center, the left wing of the mansion, and the entirety of the first floor. In exchange, you gave yourself solace in the gardens surrounding the mansion, and the woods beyond it. So you couldn't dare to step over that line.

Except, maybe, the library. 

Books have always been a lovely companion to you, when much of your own words didn't mean anything. So you appreciated all the books scattered across all the shelves in the rooms you did not hesitate to step into. But you wanted to allow yourself some audacity to look for the actual library. The thought of its sheer size and capacity to hold hundreds and thousands of centuries old books, made you want to step over that imaginary line you drew for yourself. 

But then, you also have other things to distract you from giving into your desires.

The practice of acclimating with your duties as the now lady of the estate, was much easier than receiving the never ending messages of congratulations, or fighting the urges to cross over the unspoken boundaries that you drew out yourself. It was not as burdensome as you feared it would be, but nonetheless, the duties of the wife of the Gojo Satoru, was sure not easy. 

The first few days were spent in awe of everything, even though you were not from someone’s blood lacking in any affluence; but your new residence, surname, and—the living legend of sorts—husband were scintillating to a blinding degree. And any apparent distant giggling teases of a feet sweeping honeymoon, envisioned by the ladies at your reception—was not happening, to their utter dismay.  

Yet still you have come to enjoy the mundane tasks. Waking up to an empty bed for a straight week, since your first night with your husband, is compensated for by your ladies in waiting, namely, Mia and Suki . Both of their lively fuss in the morning over dressing you up feels more rejuvenating than any cup of coffee.

It makes you want to look forward to the mornings when you go to bed waiting for Satoru, only for him to slip under the sheets after he has been reassured by the maids that you are deep in slumber. So then he could walk into your room, as discreetly as possible, and get ready to slip under the same sheets as you.

To then only stare at how your eyelashes fall on your cheeks, the curve of your cupid’s bow, the bridge of your nose, and the blemishes on your skin, until he falls asleep himself—to then wake up before you, leaving his side of the bed cold and empty, and so neatly cleaned up. That it looks untouched.

Meeting Ichiji after breakfast, to go over Satoru’s schedule, before your husband’s departure to work, feels much more inviting than having breakfast at an empty table with your husband’s absence. 

Discussing breakfast the previous night with chef Suzuki, lunch for yourself and the staff at the estate—as well as discussing what should be packed and sent for the lord of the estate’s lunch. Looking over the needs of each staff member, catering to their meal requirements etc. it was quite a hard job, when done genuinely, but it made you feel closer to each and every member of your new family. 

Understanding the accounts of the estate expenditure, making notes of days when the staff are to be paid, fulfilling their requests, corresponding with other clan members etc. surprisingly kept you busy, as you did your best to remain accurate in your calculations. Because these were to then Bypass Satoru's finals checking.

It was a matter of concern for you before, how you will be spending your time usefully, rather than just sitting idly in a pretty attire. Before, you used to spend your days teaching destitute children, until your parents deemed your career as a good pastime that went on long enough, and eventually it was just that you were to focus on your overdue duties—marriage.

And just like that, that little freedom was also snatched away even after much groveling to your parents. So you presumed as much, it was going to be absurd to even ask your husband to continue that vocation—after all if the people of your own blood can confine you within a boundary before wedding you off on your merry way, like some livestock they raised to be butchered—then expecting anything more from a husband of a week and mere convenience, was out of the question.

The hardest possible job was calling your husband during a particular time of the day, to enquire about his preference for each day's dinner. When he would be on his break, you'd call him, but not at a time when he was actually free enough to pick up his phone immediately. But just busy enough to not be actually able to pick up the phone himself.

It took you some time to perfect the right timing. It is exactly two and a half rings, before you could hang up the phone without any guilt. It was long enough that it showed, ‘oh yes she really called.’, but not long enough for your husband to actually pick up the phone and converse with you. Of course it was silly. Why would you call him if you did not even mean to speak to him?

Because that was not the purpose of the call. It was almost another formality. And how dare you ruin all the efforts he has been putting into to ignore you, for an entire week at that? Of course it was nothing enraging enough to make you do petty things, because this was not petty! You just either really wanted to respect his wishes, or that you were too scared to start another conversation with him. And maybe the answer could be an amalgamation of all the aforementioned reasons.

It seems that you would rather go to far fetched lengths than speak to your own husband directly about what he would like for the kitchen to prepare for dinner. Instead, it was easier to call Ichiji with the excuse that Satoru did not pick up, to then have him ask and relay back what should be prepared for dinner.

It was not that it was imperative for you to ask Satoru such tedious things, you were not even sure how this whole thing started. The very first day after you two were wed, and later in the morning when he walked out on you after calling you wrong for trying to abide by your wifely duties, the kitchen asked for your opinion for dinner. And after that nauseating breakfast experience, you did not have the mind to think about food, so you skipped lunch, and so did Satoru, without you at the table he simply dismissed everyone to their own vices and returned to his hiding. You wanted to respect their wishes and give them an answer, but you also did not really have anything on your mind. 

Naturally, you told them to just ask Satoru, but since apparently your husband already locked himself in his office in the very opposite end of the estate from you, and had some important people over to congratulate him, no one was brave enough to disrupt him.

But something told them it was acceptable for you to intervene.

“How- how am I supposed to ask him? I, I do not think I should.” You spoke loud enough for the staff to hear, but it was mostly for yourself to hear those words, and know your place. 

“We truly think Gojo-sama would not mind if you went in, madam. Well, if you are still so hesitant, why not just call him?” Chef Suzuki suggested for the others to nod along with him. And you did not have the heart to tell them the already sour nature of your relationship with their lord. So you sat down in the nearest sitting room, if you can even call such a massive room, just that. The Gojo estate expanded through truly acres and acres of land, so there were plenty of rooms with the most comfortable couches and chairs, and plenty more telephone to communicate with people in the other areas of the estate.

One ring. Two rings. Two and a half rings. Three rings-

“Hello.” 

Oh he picked up. And oh, his voice sounded different. Different from how he speaks with you. It sounded more authoritative. More rough, more distant. 

And here you thought only you were subjugated to his apathy and ignorance.

“Hello?” Oh right, you answer someone when they pick up the phone, right.

“Um- hello.” All sound on his end halted. Or maybe it felt like that to him. 

“I- I just, I mean- the chef wanted to ask- what would you like for dinner?” Goodness, when did you get so bad at conversing over the phone?

There was a long awkward pause after that question. You were fully expecting him to just scoff at your audacity to even think you could call him to ask such things, and hang up on you. You were expecting dinner to be cancelled altogether. And after skipping lunch, and throwing up everything you had for breakfast, you couldn't afford that.

“Please let the chef know that I'll have whatever you'd like.” His voice sounded softer than how he previously spoke, or maybe it was just that he was trying to not shout at you in front of his guests. Either way, you were grateful. That he did not prolong this call with names of illegible culinary words you could not relay back, and get deemed unsophisticated.

“Alright. Please be at the table by the time it is served.” You did not expect him to have dinner with you. But you still asked, maybe there was some pleading in your voice as well. Or maybe you just did not want to eat alone. 

“Of course, sweetheart. And I'm sorry about this morning.” 

Oh? 

Oh!

He says sorry? The head of the Gojo clan says sorry, to his wife? In front of other people of authority? You've had some wild and confusing interactions with this man since you married him not even barely twenty four hours ago, and this was probably the wildest interaction you've had with a man in your life. A man with such power at that. And you could not, or maybe you did not know how to answer him. So you did the next worst thing to stutter an ok, you hung up on him. 

Everyone around you giggled and smiled discreetly, as you scrambled away to the kitchen, offering not needed, but appreciated, help to chef Suzuki. 

And when dinner time came, you started setting up that huge table by yourself, dismissing everyone to eat their own meals. Not expecting a husband to accompany you for the meal, you busied yourself with the cutlery and fine china, when a looming figure leaned on the door frame to observe you from a far.

It seems as though Gojo Satoru has developed a weird pension for staring at his wife from afar.

And he has also developed the knack for scaring her by silently coming up to her from behind without any warning. He liked that you shriek and jump when you realize you're not just by yourself anymore. He likes to think that one day you'll jump in joy rather than surprise to see him walk in without any warning.

So you both silently sat yourselves down at the very opposite ends of the dining table, both at the head of each end, and silently ate your dinner. Which was much easier to chow down than the breakfast you had earlier. Which thankfully did not upset your stomach too bad. You did not exchange words, just silently stole glances, and when your eyes would land on his eyes, which would be already trained on you more than half of the time—you’d scurry to finish your meal before him and leave him at an empty table. 

Reap what you sow. 

Now that is how this entire calling Satoru—or Ichiji to be more exact—thing started. Everyday since then you've never failed to call him, and hung up after that almost third ring, to not allow him the chance to respond; to then ask him through Ichiji, what he'd like for dinner. For lunch, If he was at his home office, he'd eat there. And if he was not home, his lunch would be packed and delivered.

Some sorry it was. Given as a formality, and taken not seriously.

The chef, or the staff, or the ladies appointed to you, never clarified that you did not have to do this entire thing, calling him everyday to just ask about dinner. This was not part of the duties assigned to you, and the kitchen has always cycled through a set of preparation their lord preferred, and it was already an established, much easier, routine. But no one tried to object to the new everyday routine. 

Especially when Satoru himself did not mind the new routine. Sure, he'd much appreciate you asking him directly, but he'd have the short end of the bargain either way.

And everyday it was more than enough entertainment for all of them to see their madame struggle to address their master. Satoru was never truly involved in such tasks, much of the responsibilities you take care of now used to fall on poor Ichiji’s shoulders, so the change of pace was much appreciated by everyone. After all, he was too busy being the strongest weapon in jujutsu history to look after everything himself. 

So somewhere everyone, including your husband, found your insistence to note down his opinions over such trivial things, too endearing to enlighten you. Though this routine of calls have become quite complicated over the past week. And so you have developed a habit of having lunch with the chef and kitchen staff.

On rare, yet day by day more frequent occasions, like today, instead of the kitchen staff, you would be sitting opposite your husband over lunch.

It was not often you sat down in a room with Satoru without any reason, in fact you can count on one hand how many times you have done that. So waiting for lunch to be served on a comically large dining table, sitting on the very opposite end from him, was new everytime. It was awkward enough to share any meal other than the scheduled dinner with him, that too he always left much earlier than you, thankfully. 

Who knows what it was? Was it his engulfing cologne clogging your nose, disabling you from smelling the food served in front of you. Or simply the annoyingly perfect sight of him, so casually eating like it was the most natural thing to do—while you sat there, a nervous wreck. But regardless, you did not seem to have any appetite. Which was apparent enough for everyone, including Satoru to notice that across from the table.

“Is there anything on your plate that you don’t like? I can ask the chef to make you something else.” There was, as if, a genuine concern in his voice. For you, that was simply weird.

“Oh. No, I am fine. I just had a snack earlier.” The poorly told lie was not one to pass Gojo Satoru or his six eyes. But for you he was willing to make an excuse. 

“Is that so? I think I am done as well.” It was a risky tactic he was employing, trying to bait you with guilt was low even for him. 

“But you’ve barely started!?” “And you barely had any breakfast. I am more than sure if I asked anyone here what fulfilling snack you had, the answer would be underwhelming.” How would he even know what you did or not have for breakfast when he was not even there to begin with?

For a few seconds he sat there assessing if he had pissed you off again. As invigorating as it is to mildly anger you, he would not have that at the cost of your meal. To his relief without any more protest you went back to your plate to take a proper mouthful bite.

If anyone tested Satoru’s patience as you did, as well as avoided him as skillfully as you have; it would have ended up not as kindly as it has been with you. He has been trying to give you space, to let you breathe, and foster a home for yourself, in his house. Unfortunately in those attempts he has made you feel neglected and ignored instead, for someone so perceptive, he sure is clueless.

Because when he tried to give you that space, after that poorly said sorry, he thought by extension it was part of the apology. Which mistranslated to you, as some formality and ignorance. When he was merely trying to make you feel more comfortable, and holding himself back from stepping over any more land mines. 

Those said land mines are simply just his unfathomably and rapidly growing feelings for you. His concerns, and worries about your wellbeing. And just thoughts of you randomly hijacking his mind. It takes Suguru one too many times a day to nudge his head, to bring him out of some sort of trance that he goes into when you come into his mind. 

But after the first week, he has found himself to enjoy invading your space rather than trying to give you space. It made him ecstatic to hear your voice panic a little when from time to time he would pick up your routinely strategic calls instead of missing them. He does think, even you have to admit for yourself, that two and a half rings are far too few before hanging up on someone. Also he did not appreciate Ichiji asking him what he would like for dinner, instead of you. You made this new habit, you must be the one to ask as well. 

“What would you like for the chef to prepare tonight?” 

“Hmm?” he looked a little dumbfounded at your sudden question, was it not enough you were infiltrating his mind and now you are reading his thoughts as well? Upon acclimating with the situation, he sees his own and your empty plates. Guess he finished his meal while he was too busy thinking of, again, you. 

“I mean, what do you want for dinner?” you ask once again, in hopes of a more clear answer. But god forbid your husband ever gave you a desirable answer to your questions. 

“You.”

If someone wanted to learn how to kill someone with a single word, it should be recorded how this exchange happened. The food in your mouth choked in your throat, it had your husband sprint from his own seat to your end of the table, to pat you on the back and hand you a glass of water. After a few minutes and some water later, the food went down the pipe, but the word did not.

“Goodness, I was only joking, sweets.” 

He was in fact, not joking.

“Y-you were?” He nodded a very convincing yes, trying not to scare off his already spooked wife. 

“It was a very poor attempt at a joke. But I appreciate the effort.” You ended your sentence with a smile that subconsciously made its way to your lips. He does not remember when was the last time you smiled at him, or, for him.

And he chuckled at your honesty. He found it so refreshing and interesting. It is not that no one has ever told him how bad his jokes were, or worse when people laugh at his jokes merely outbid fear. He knows his humor was not to everyone's taste. But he liked that you did not just put him down, maybe out of your still very scared view of him, or maybe out of sympathy. But he appreciated the change of pace where his friends would just shit on him for such jokes, or when people would laugh too loud and too obviously out of fear.

But then again, he was just trying to mask truth with humor. 

Which has been a staple for him. The truth is as plain as he said it, he wants you. He wants you carnally maybe, he wants to eat you up. He wants you to chew him up like a gum and spit him out at your convenience. 

But more than that, Satoru thinks he also wants you beyond bodily, physical needs. He does not think he even thought about touching you since your first meeting, until he actually touched your skin that night. He saw you in that room, sitting behind that cedar wood table, looking smaller than everyone in that room, despite your status. And he thought—’Great. A meek little mouse instead of a bride.’

But when you actually answered his teasing, and honestly, patronizing question instead of timidly bowing your head in respect, like he expected you to—he saw a dwindling spark in your eyes in that moment, instead of fear and vast pit of emptiness, that he first saw in them when he opened those doors.

And he knew even if there was someone more capable to stand beside him, maybe he would rather stand with you. 

He cannot still exactly pinpoint what it is that he craved from you, or if it's just that he simply craves you, but he wants more. He wants more of you, more from you. He wants you just simply to exist around him. Your skin sent waves of heat through his skin when he touched it, it was burning hot compared to his own cold body, you felt so warm and so alive in that moment, and he simply wants more.

He does not think he loves you. Yet. At the very least. He does not think he fell in love with you just as he laid his eyes on you that day, maybe he pities you that much. Maybe it is just like adopting a frail kitten stuck in a storm and giving her a shelter to thrive in. He has thought about that. But he came to the conclusion that he is done playing some hero. 

The world has had enough of Gojo Satoru—the strongest, the saviour, and the weapon.

He simply wants to exist, as he wants to exist for someone. He does not want to sacrifice anymore. For once he wants to be selfish. He wants to selfishly live on, and live with someone. And he has chosen that someone to be you. 

And if you were just some sympathy case, he doesn't think he would've felt such feelings for you. He truly needs you, more than he wants you. He needs you to want him, he needs you to look at him with the same eyes as you did when you told him off for being late, or when you looked him up through those blurry pupils while being pinned under him. 

He truly, earnestly, needs to have you. Most romantically, spiritually, and disrespectfully.

He would rather have you on this table than the spread of a very well prepared meal. But those aren't thoughts that can be easily dumped on his wife, who has schemed up tactful ways to avoid even hearing his voice through the phone.

“Just ask them to prepare what you'd like.” He smiled reassuringly before picking up your plate, as well as his, so quickly, even beating the staff and you to it—and headed straight to the kitchen sink.

To maybe drown himself in the sink after putting away the dirty plates.

It is truly magnificent, how wonderful the garden looks at night. 

How the koi pond dims down at night, and the stones and the sand become cold with the dropping temperature. The pine trees rustled and threw their needles all over the ground, as if to deter the sharp wind, to protect their garden from its sharp claws. And it seems like an entire play is happening right outside of your windows. 

But you have been more interested in what goes on behind that battle ground. In the little grove of trees, and wild flowers, where the wind seems more forgiving, and the trees feel more comforting. 

And it feels like an entirely new world beyond the bridge over the stream, that connects to the lake nestled in the trees. And you've come to find a safety net in that new world of yours. 

Particularly sitting down on one of those benches under the cherry blossom trees by the said lake, the one near the bridge seems too out of your reach, so you always opt for the one across it—the only reason why is because your husband seems to like that bench for himself.

Though it takes a bit of a walk from your room on the right side, or even the left wing of the mansion, to go over the only bridge that crosses the stream, which lies as a boundary between the tidy gardens and the unbridled woods—it was easily accessible from the center. 

After the first time you did dare to cross that bridge, you did not think of crossing it again. Maybe because you were too busy waiting for your husband to return to bed, or afraid of interrupting Satoru. Either way, you tried your best to not cross that bridge.

The second time you went there, was when you saw Satoru crossing that bridge around twelve AM, when you were just sprawled on the couch in that particular drawing room that looked over the bridge. Not ready to retire to that huge bed by yourself, you followed him there.

And all he did was sit on the bench under the cherry blossom tree, which stood by the lake around twenty five steps away from the bridge. 

You did not dare to disturb him, he looked so calm, and at peace. For once, from what you could make out from behind the huge and unkempt hydrangea bushes, his eyes did not look pained. 

It is that people often saw Gojo Satoru only with his blindfold on, but you mostly ever saw him without it. So you honestly felt like he was punishing you when he started wearing them around you more often since the first time you two had dinner together. You hadn't seen him for the entirety of that day, the entire morning you spent hunched over the toilet, and the evening you spent by replaying the conversation you had with him over the phone. 

‘I’m sorry.’

Is what he said. And you thought, maybe it was just a fluke, what happened that morning. Things will get better. Then to only be greeted with a husband across that long table, with a blindfold covering half of his face. And it felt more punishing than being told that you were wrong.

But from what you made out of what you have seen of his eyes, and those half empty smiles and smirks he threw your way—he was pained. It hurt him, to simply see you, just to be around you. The only place where he roamed around so freely without those obstructions in front of his eyes, for his own good, was his home—and now you've taken that away from him as well.

So then you started to ignore him. After waiting for him in that huge bed, that huge table, those huge rooms—you gave up easily. As easily as he threw a half assed apology for you to latch onto some false hope. You avoided walking into him. You avoided trying to stay up for him, or starving yourself, you avoided his voice, and but you still tried to get a peek of his hidden eyes.

Until you couldn't help but follow him into these woods. And so you sat there looking at him, creeping in the shadows, while the lake’s water reflected beams of light on his face, and made his blue eyes shine a different shade of blue than what it usually reflects. And the scars that dug themselves on his skin, looked deeper than what they usually did. It looked like he was freshly wounded, and the most vulnerable, he could allow himself to be.

You waited there until he got up from his seat and disappeared into the thin air. 

And that's how your own routine started. You waited until twelve AM to see if Satoru went into the woods, and waited for about an hour and a half more to check if the lights in your room were turned on from under the door. To then sneak into the woods. Some days he'd be gone, other days he'd still be under that cherry blossom tree.

And if he was not there, you'd make your own way to take a seat under the cherry blossom tree across the lake, other times you'd wait for him to disappear from behind those hydrangea bushes.

Today was one of those days.

You waited, and waited, until it seemed like he had teleported back to your bedroom, to make your way to the bench on the other side. And when you made it there, you found it out to be occupied by your husband himself. So you did what you could do, in a state of panic, you tried your best to silently turn around and walk away without rumbling the bushes or rustling the grass under your feet. To make your escape.

“You're leaving already?” His voice came out smooth and steady as ever. And you stopped in your tracks with your back to his back.

“Come here, sit down.” He simply said, without as much as even turning around from where he sat. 

And you could not help but obey. If it was possible, you'd run, run so fast and quick that even his techniques would not be able to track you down. But that is just a delusional imagination.

“I won't repeat.” He said in a heavier tone, but it didn't sound commanding, it was playful if anything. Light and breezy, but sharp. Sharp enough that if you tried to avoid it, it'd cut right through. So despite yourself, you walked over to the bench you've come to love so dearly over the course of the last few weeks, and sat down on the very edge of it. As far away from him as you possibly could sit.

But Satoru couldn't allow that.

It took him a second to lift his left hand off his lap, to lean slightly to your side and drag you towards him by your waist. The ring you put on him the day you married you, shined in the darkness with his swift movements. 

And just like that, you were sitting side by side with your husband. Your bare arm touched the soft fabric of the sleeves on his t-shirt, and the rigid muscles under them pushed into your own arm. His left arm loosened around your back, but his hand remained steady and static on your waist. And your lungs stopped working.

“Need help with breathing also?” It was only his taunting tone that gave your lungs the air needed to not pass out then and there. 

You did not answer him. You did not wish to entertain him. You've entertained him enough by thinking you could get away with trying to sneak past his eyes, when he had his sight on you from the beginning, all six of them. And yet again you felt like a defeated fool against him.

“You- come here often?” The suppressed giggle in his throat almost spilled over with each word uttered.

“Don’t ask questions that you already know the answers to.” You looked away from him, to face the lake, and the ripples in the water. It's as if even the lake was coming down with a second hand embarrassment, looking at how chaotically it's water started moving.

“Alrightttt, alright. I'll stop.” With a last few giggles, he looked away from your face, and focused his covered eyes on the same cherry blossom tree you were eyeing. The one he usually sits under, looked completely different from the other side. 

“I wish they'd bloom soon.” He spoke out loud, it sounded like a passing thought that spilled out unintentionally.

“Do you like cherry blossoms?” You turned your face towards him, his face however, did not turn.

“No. Not really.” “Really?”

“Why? Couldn't you tell that by just looking at me?” he smiled a big toothy grin. That stretched across his face, but even with the blindfold on, you could tell it didn't reach his eyes.

“No. I couldn't. Especially with that thing covering half of your face.” You sure were feeling brave today. Maybe it was the darkness of the night, or the secrecy in the woods, or just the embarrassment of how you ended up here. But words just seemed to flow out of your mouth instead of getting stuck in your throat.

He finally looked towards you, and cranked his neck to look down at your eyes, looking up at him. And he could tell that you knew. That you knew even with his blindfold between your eyes and his, whether he was lying or not. So why bother with it at all right? 

He brought his right hand up to his face, to hook his index and middle finger under his blindfold, and dragged it down on his neck.“I don't think I enjoy how quickly they wither away. But I like how they look when they fall. Unihibited and free.” 

He looked back over towards the lake. With his eyes free to shine under the moonlight. And there it was, the pain. 

“Is that why you have been avoiding me?” you blurted out with furrowed eyebrows and determined eyes.

“I've been- what? Because of the cherry blossoms?” His head whipped towards you as fast as it could without snapping his neck, his left hand tightened around you, and he looked confused.

“No. Because you look like you are in pain whenever you're around me.” Your throat was starting to tighten up.

Suddenly you felt like crying. In fact, your eyes started to well up after every passing moment from when you said your thoughts out loud. This is weird. You don't cry. You never cry. It's been years since you cried. Why are you crying? Is he going to reprimand you for that? 

Well, you can't wait here on this bench to find that out. So you haphazardly pulled yourself out of his arms, and made your way back to the mansion. 

You couldn't even make it past the fifth step, when Satoru dragged you back towards him. He was still sitting on that bench, except now you stood there between him and the cherry blossom tree, in between his legs. Once again, stuck. His chin rested itself on your stomach, as it fluttered away, his eyes looked so soft and his face looked like it wanted to be caressed. Both of his hands ended up on either side of your hips, as if his legs weren't enough to keep you captured. Even when your protests didn't match his strength.

He patiently waited like that until you stopped protesting, and just looked down at his face, still resting on your stomach, looking up at you, and you gave in trying to shove him off of you by his shoulders. Instead you just let them rest there.

“Would you like to elaborate? Pleaseee?” If you told anyone that Gojo Satoru was whining to you right now, they'd call you insane. And maybe that's what's happening to you.

“No.” You are becoming insane.

“Please.” Other than his many ancient and sought after techniques, his most lethal weapon was his pout. So how could you resist those quivering billowy lips?

“I- You just-”, you stuttered trying to answer him, thinking whether or not you could get away with some excuse or straight up lies. But of course you cannot. He truly is too dangerous.

“You just, always- you look as if you're in so much pain when you're around me.” You sighed, finally voicing it out loud, “Isn’t that why you started wearing these around the house, around me?” You passingly pulled on the blindfold hanging on his neck, to make a point.

Yet again, he was left speechless. It's as if you deploy all his devices useless. You render him to nothing. 

How was he supposed to answer you?

That yes, yes you pain him. Your presence simply has become so enthralling that it physically hurts him to hold himself back. To not cross lines he might not be able to come back from. That your claws are creeping deeper in his chest, and he is doing nothing to stop that bleeding.

He has bled to death on a battlefield twice, with no regrets on his mind. But if you were the one to sever him to death—he would gladly take it. And he'd regret that why couldn't he die at your hands an infinite amount of times more. This time around he'd be truly unhappy to leave behind the mortal realm. Because it’d mean leaving you behind with it.

He could not do that. He cannot survive, he simply cannot do anything against you. 

And that pains him. Aches him really, to be this close and yet so far away from you. 

He hates to make you feel avoided, and neglected, but what is he to do when he doesn't have any control over his thoughts and actions when he's around you? 

When your scent simply travels with the wind when you sneak into the woods trying to not alert him, his chest starts tightening up. Your clogged up loose hair in the shower runs a shiver down his spine. When you chew the food on your plate across from him, he wants to leap over the table and pull you into a kiss.

He wants to be the one to show you around the entire estate, and pull you into random little corners and halls, to kiss you helplessly, hidden away from some passing eyes. He wants to be the one to show you the library because he heard from a helper at parent's house that is where you spent most of your days, he wants to buy you all the books you have ever wanted and will ever want. 

He'd like to hold you and lull you to sleep, and dig his face in your chest, and just fall asleep listening to your heart beat—to feel your blood flow under his touch, and your skin warm up against him.

And it truly hurts him. It hurts to know you've never known a home. 

So he wants to give you that. He wants to hand you all the control over him, and have you pull all the strings from here onwards. He wants you to know that everything to his name is yours, even his name is yours, his mere existence is all yours. Because he wants to give it all up to you.

So it hurts him. It hurts to know that you don't know that.

“I'll take your silence as confirmation then.” His grasp on you easily broke off, maybe he was in a trance again, or maybe it was just the power you already held over him. But to you he was simply found guilty of the accusations that you made. And with no sense of justice, you walked away from him. 

And he did not protest. 

Because maybe it's too fast. It's too quick. To feel what he is feeling. How was he going to ever even verbalize these things to you? And not sound crazy? Let alone give you a satisfying explanation.

It has been barely a month since he has married you, barely two months since he's known you. Wouldn't it be too sudden to go from essentially neglecting you, to professing his vow of devotion to you?

But it's just that suddenly, Gojo Satoru realized then and there, how deep he is. That there were no excuses left to make. That perhaps it was too sudden, too quick, just as quick as cherry blossoms blooming and withering away in spring—maybe he is falling for you.

No. Scratch that. It's idiotic to even question this at this point. He has uninhibitedly and freely, fallen for you.

NEXT CHAPTER>>soon!

TO FIND MORE OF MY WORKS CLICK HERE.

divider by @/omi-resources. header is from, and watashitachi wa douka shiteiru drama. art in the header by @/RUEheree on twt.

thank you to indie @indiewritesxoxo beloved for proof reading pre edit <3 wouldn't be out today otherwise

i do not think it was that bad, was it? also i am just calling him husband and blah blah by his titles a lot. which if you find annoying womp womp because i am using that as part of the narration, like she will slowly start to see him more than that. and again it is slow burn, so sit with it. i am making bro so emotionally constipated muahahahaha he is gonna be rambling about sighhhh she is so sighhhhh and then be like hmm not like i love her or anything yk. he is just like me frfr

tag list (1): @cheralith @slayzzz @madamechrissy @gojosperms @gojoao @cuntphoric @cuntyji @cuntphoric @aishi-toru @fushitoru @rriwyu @arcanarix @lover-lyn @buckysm @wwwritererm @indiewritesxoxo @shouiow @user25384959574 @dxmnsaera @emyyy007 @ineedbetterhobbies0809 @littlemisswitch67 @dxmnsaera @kazupop @tabalugax @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @thetiredcollegestudent @tokyolhtl @emochosoluvr @moncher-ire @hyunjinspdf @younjunie @em0cleo @novaisbebita @hisarmsaremycocoon @wise-fangirl @sheep-infog @arrozyfrijoles23 @ppejmurde @miizuzu @ricecake-mochi @tushkiiiiiii @ovela @69-gojos-wife-69 @lxxnour @mereniss @theorphicangel @gojosconsort @soupicidesquad +

[genshinluvr]

Territorial

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader, Zhongli x Isekai'd!Reader x Neuvillette

Summary: Things seem to be going well when the men from Fontaine moved into the abode. Or at least that's what the others thought. You, however, can sense some tension between Zhongli and Neuvillette.

Note: How long has it been since I've posted something? A year? Over a year? Either way, I am somewhat back! Since I haven't posted fanfics in a long time, the new fanfics will be shorter compared to the previous fanfics. I'm slowly easing myself back into posting fanfics. This fic is most likely awful, but that's okay because it's been a while. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: I haven't written in a while, so, it's probably a shit fanfic LMAO

Word Count: 4.5k

Ever since the men of Fontaine decided to move into the abode, things were relatively fine. The men got along with each other, and there have yet to be any arguments or physical altercations. Yet. However, you couldn’t help but notice a certain someone avoiding one of the new members of the abode. You weren’t sure if everyone noticed the brewing tension between an Archon and the Iudex, but it was subtle yet noticeable (to you). 

The men didn’t have an issue sharing your love, affection, and attention with the others. While there are certain men who can be quite possessive (Childe), it usually never gets out of hand. Or, at least, that’s what you thought. Zhongli has been clingy lately— not that you’re complaining, but it was a little bit unusual because he’s not publicly affectionate. Even if he is openly affectionate with you, it wouldn’t be overbearing. Okay, maybe overbearing isn’t the right word to describe it.

“Maybe territorial is the best way to describe it.” You mutter.

Zhongli hums beside you, looking over at you curiously. “Care to repeat that, dearest?”

You blink, snapping out of your thoughts before rubbing the back of your neck with a sheepish smile. “Oh, nothing! I was trying to find a word to describe a Rishboland Tiger for my word puzzle!” You gesture to the word puzzle book in front of you. 

Zhongli leans toward you, peering over your shoulders and at the word puzzle in front of you. His amber eyes scan the page as if he’s checking to see if you’re doing the puzzle correctly. Thankfully, you are! Zhongli hums, stroking the rim of his teacup, preoccupied with the puzzle book. You rub your eyes before glancing at the clock on the wall. It’s almost eight in the morning, and yet here you are! Usually, you’d be in bed, sleeping the morning away until someone forces you out of bed (the person forcing you to wake up is usually Al Haitham). 

“And territorial would be correct,” Zhongli nods, smiling at you, “you’re doing well.”

You smile shyly before covering your now very warm face with the word puzzle book. Zhongli chuckles, pressing a kiss on the side of your head before proceeding to stir his warm cup of tea. A comfortable silence falls over you and Zhongli. Aside from you and Zhongli, everyone is still asleep in their respective rooms. Well, aside from Childe and Wriothesley because the two men decided to become gym buddies who get up at ungodly hours to workout, spar, and box. Given Childe's past in Fontaine, you can’t help but find it slightly odd.

Heels clicking against the floors of the abode pulls you and Zhongli out of the comfortable silence. Zhongli lets out a long exhale through his nostrils before taking a long sip of his tea, looking elsewhere. You look to see Neuvillette standing at the entrance of the dining area, gazing at you and Zhongli with surprise.

“Good morning, [Y/N], … Archon,” Neuvillette says, stepping farther into the room.

You smile at Neuvillette, waving at the Iudex. “Morning, Neuvillette! I’m surprised to see that you’re awake around this time of day.”

Neuvillette chuckles, pulling a seat out from beside you before sitting. “I could say the same thing for you, [Y/N]. You’re never up this early, but today is different. Why?” Neuvillette looks at you intently. 

A look of surprise flashes across your face before you smile at the Fontainian man. “Zhongli asked me to join him for breakfast, and here I am!”

Neuvillette hums, nodding. “I see. Now, did Deus Auri rouse you from your slumber for breakfast, or was this initially planned the day before?” Neuvillette interrogates.

You blink at Neuvillette and turn to look at Zhongli, who looks visibly annoyed with the Iudex. Zhongli gives Neuvillette a tight-lipped smile before sipping his tea, unanswering Neuvillette’s question. Without you knowing, Neuvillette shoots a subtle glare at Zhongli while Zhongli continues to drink his tea, ignoring the discreet yet heated glare thrown his way. You clear your throat before turning towards Neuvillette, only to see him brushing a stray hair away from his face. 

You can’t help but admire Neuvillette’s long hair. His hair looks so soft, and you kind of want to run your fingers through them. “I wonder what kind of hair products he uses. His hair looks so silky and healthy.”

“Oh, nothing special in particular. If you like to know what I use for my hair care routine, I can show you.” Neuvillette suggests. 

You stare at Neuvillette owlishly, mouth agape. “Did I say that out loud?”

Neuvillette smiles and takes a sip from his chalice while you’re sputtering and looking over at the Funeral Consultant with wide eyes. Should you reply to Neuvillette’s offer? But he has a hair care routine! Wait, if he has a hair care routine, is it possible that Neuvillette might have a skincare routine? Your hand starts to tremble— not out of fear, but excitement and a bit of anxiousness because you accidentally said your thoughts out loud.

Zhongli stares at Neuvillette before placing a hand over your trembling ones. “To answer your question, Monsieur Neuvillette, I invited [Y/N] to breakfast the day prior,” Zhongli says, grabbing Neuvillette’s attention. “Isn’t that right, dearest?”

You smile and nod. “That is correct! Zhongli invited me to breakfast yesterday afternoon! We walked around the abode, watched the sunrise, and here we are!” You gesture to the table happily. 

Neuvillette presses his lips in a thin line, nodding. The three of you continue to sit in silence in the dining room, listening to birds sing in the distance. The more you continue with the puzzle book, the more you become confused. You start to bounce your right leg, tapping the pencil against the booklet, staring at number fifty. 

“How the hell did I get into the Akademiya when I’m struggling with this damn puzzle?” You mumble to yourself.

“The answer is Fortress of Meropide,” Neuvillette says, his voice right next to your ear. 

You pause and look at Neuvillette, freezing, when you realize how close your faces are. You can’t help but notice Neuvillette briefly looking down at your lips before making eye contact with you. If your face wasn’t feeling hot already, then it is now. The longer you gaze into Neuvillette’s eyes, the more you realize how breathtaking he is. 

“You have long lashes.” You mutter.

Before Neuvillette can respond, Zhongli clears his throat loudly. Your eyes quickly dart to your puzzle book, breaking eye contact with the handsome and breathtaking Iudex of Fontaine. Fortress of Meropide, huh? You scribble down the answers, and lo and behold, the words fit into the small boxes perfectly. 

You press your lips into a thin line, looking at Neuvillette from the corner of your eyes. “Thank you for helping me,” you whisper.

Neuvillette hums softly, taking a sip of water from the chalice. “You’re welcome. If you need any other assistance, I am more than happy to help.” Neuvillette says.

The clock ticks away, and you find yourself in another comfortable silence. Only this time, the silence isn’t as comfortable as before. Is Zhongli sitting much closer to you than he was a few minutes ago? Neuvillette keeps glancing over your shoulders, watching you write the answers in the boxes. It’s almost like both men are glaring at each other when you're not looking (they are, but you’re trying your best to act like you didn’t notice the ever-growing tension between the two refined men).

The door to the abode suddenly bursts open, and Wriothesley and Childe enter, drenched in sweat and with a towel around their necks. Childe and Wriothesley stop at the entrance, looking at the three of you with surprise.

Childe points an accusing finger at you three, “Why are you two all up in my snookum’s space?” Childe marches over, huffing and puffing about Zhongli and Neuvillette's lacking manners when being around you— his precious snookums who can do no wrong in his eyes. Wriothesley rolls his eyes, chuckling while wiping the sweat from his forehead with the white towel around his neck.

“Geez, Childe, you can’t hog them to yourself,” Wriothesley mutters, watching the ginger-haired man snatch you up from your seat. 

You’re thrashing in Childe’s arms, swatting at him while muttering how sweaty he is. Childe ignores your protest and drapes his arms around your shoulders, burying his face into your hair. You shudder, feeling his sweaty skin stick to yours— almost melting and becoming your second skin. 

Your nose scrunches up with disgust when you catch a whiff of his sweat. “You’re sweaty and smelly. Go take a shower,” you order, patting his head— only to regret it immediately. 

Childe shakes his head, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “How can I shower in peace when I witnessed my snookums sandwiched between two men who aren’t me?” Childe looks up from your neck, glaring at Zhongli and Neuvillette, who, in return, glare back at him. 

You poke Childe’s forehead. “Can you let go of me? I have a puzzle to finish.”

Childe shakes his head. “I’m not letting go of you until you return my hug, snookums.”

Sometimes, you underestimate Childe’s stubbornness and clinginess. It’s not like you don’t want to hug him! You love his hugs! However, you have an issue with hugging people when you or that person is sweaty— you don’t know why, but you don’t like it and cannot tolerate the feeling of stickiness. You grumble under your breath and reluctantly wrap your arms around Childe’s waist, squeezing your eyes shut when you feel Childe’s sweat seep through his shirt. Childe sighs happily and peppers your face with kisses, making sure to make it loud enough for the others to hear the obnoxious smooching noises. 

“That’s enough, Childe,” Zhongli says sternly, glaring at Childe from where he’s sitting.

Neuvillette huffs, swishing the water in his chalice while muttering, “Have some decorum, Harbinger.”

Childe pauses what he’s doing and glances over at Zhongli and Neuvillette. The two men shoot daggers in Childe’s direction, and Childe can see the veins on their foreheads threatening to pop. With a shit-eating grin, Childe proceeds to do what he was doing earlier— suffocate you with his kisses in front of the very irritated Zhongli and Neuvillette and an amused Wriothesley.

Wriothesley shakes his head, snorting, “He’s just fucking with you two, and you two are letting him win.”

Zhongli and Neuvillette don’t respond afterward; they only continue to glare at Childe from the corners of their eyes. After some time, Childe finally releases you from his sweaty grasp, though not before placing one last sloppy kiss on your face. You give Childe a tight-lipped smile before debating whether you should take a shower or continue your puzzle book.

“Snookums~!” Childe whines, sniffling dramatically.

Wriothesley rolls his eyes with a snort. “You’re even clingier than [Y/N] claimed,” Wriothesley smirks, pushing himself away from the counter before sauntering to where you stand.

You look at Wriothesley, suddenly feeling on edge. Why is he suddenly approaching you with that smug grin on his face? Is he up to something? Wriothesley pushes Childe to the side, causing the ginger-haired man to stumble and glare at the Duke. 

Before Wriothesley can say anything, you hold up an index finger. “What are you up to?” you ask cautiously.

Wriothesley laughs, his laughter sending tingles down your spine. “I’m just testing something. Relax for me,” He murmurs. 

You audibly gulp, causing the man before you to let out an airy laugh, his canines shining under the dining room lights. Wriothesley, now standing three feet in front of you, gestures to you to step forward with his index and middle finger. You inch forward, feeling multiple eyes on the back of your head as you get closer to Wriothesley. 

Once you’re standing in front of Wriothesley, you look anywhere but his face, worrying the smug smile will send you to your knees. Noticing your lack of eye contact, Wriothesley gently grabs you by the chin, tilting your head up. Archons, is the dining room hot, or is it just you? Wriothesley gazes into your eyes, the corner of his lips quirking up. With his free hand, Wriothesley caresses your cheek before chuckling. “My, my. Your face is quite hot. Are you feeling alright, dollface?” 

“You’re up to something, I just know it,” You whisper, narrowing your eyes at him.

Wriothesley chuckles, leans down, and murmurs into your ears, “As I said earlier, I’m just testing something. Do you trust me?” His breath fans your ear and the side of your face, causing goosebumps to form on your body.

He’s up to something, and the alarms are going off in your head. You’re not worried about what Wriothesley is up to! What you’re worrying about is how Childe (and Neuvillette and Zhongli) are going to react to what Wriothesley is going to do. Wriothesley leans down toward your neck, catching a whiff of your lotion and body wash. “Hmm, you smell nice. Are you wearing the lotion I bought for you while I was away in Fontaine?” He pulls away and gazes at you with curiosity, his head tilting to the side.

You can’t help but melt under his gaze. You gulp again, nodding your head. Wriothesley nods and pulls away from you. Wriothesley strokes his chin, gazing at you intently. You can’t help but squirm under Wriothesley’s piercing stare. He suddenly places both beside your neck, tilting your head to the side.

“Good. It makes me happy to know you’re wearing something I got for you. I’ll get you more the next time I return to Fontaine for work,” Wriothesley nods.

Your eyes widen, and you quickly shake your head. “No, no! You don’t have to get me anything, Wriothesley! I insist!” You protest, placing your right hand over his left.

Zhongli clears his throat, grabbing your and Wriothesley’s attention. If Zhongli hadn’t been annoyed already, then he certainly is now. Wriothesley clears his throat before walking away— but not without kissing the side of your head. Zhongli sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering incoherent words to himself. You swallow the lump in your throat before sitting back down. 

Neuvillette hums, stroking his chin. “There is a rather compelling trial that is being held at the Opera Epiclese. Your thoughts and presence would be most welcome should you wish to observe the proceedings alongside me.”

Your eyes light up, and you gasp with excitement. “Ooh, I can!? I would love to join you, Neuvillette!” You squeal, clapping your hands.

It’s not like you’re excited to see someone get possibly executed— what you’re looking forward to is being able to witness how trails take place in Fontaine. Instead of witnessing the trial from behind your computer screen, you get to see it with your very own eyes! 

Zhongli clears his throat. “Dearest, I must remind you that you have some projects to turn in today at the Akademiya.”

Your eyes widen, and the pencil in your hand clatters on the table. Wait, what project!? You have projects to turn in at the Akademiya!? You rack through your brain, trying to recall if you really did have projects that need to be submitted. 

Neuvillette narrows his eyes at Zhongli, raising an eyebrow with skepticism. Zhongli ignores Neuvillette’s stare and proceeds to sip from his teacup. Right when you’re about to open your mouth to question Zhongli, Al Haitham enters the dining room, dressed and ready for the day. 

You sigh in relief, push yourself up from your seat, and stride to the Scribe. “Al Haitham! Can you help me jog my memory really quick?”

Al Haitham raises his eyebrows at you, crossing his arms over his chest. “Of course. What is it that you need me to assist you with?”

“I agreed to go watch today’s trial proceeding in Fontaine with Neuvillette, but Zhongli reminded me that I have a project to submit to the Akademiya today. My issue is that I cannot recall whether I do have a project to submit,” you explain, crossing your arms over your chest while tapping your foot on the ground impatiently. 

Al Haitham strokes his chin, eyebrows knitting together as he tries to recall any conversations he had with you regarding your upcoming deadlines with the Akademiya. Al Haitham nods wordlessly. You deflate and collapse to your knees, lying on the ground while sulking. 

“Eh? What happened to Windblume? They look heartbroken and defeated,” Venti says, strutting into the dining room while smoothing over the wrinkles on his shirt. “Was breakfast with blockhead disappointing?” Venti jokes, propping his hands on his hips.

You sigh and shake your head. You can’t be disappointed about the project submission preventing you from attending the Opera Epiclese with Neuvillette. Your project determines the fate of your future with the Akademiya, and you certainly cannot push the deadline back. Plus, you can’t be upset with Zhongli for reminding you of something so important. 

Venti extends his hands toward you; you grab his hands and stand up. You waddle over to the table and plop down between Zhongli and Neuvillette while sulking over missing the opportunity to witness a trial in person. 

You turn to Neuvillette, visibly disappointed, “Thank you for the invite, Neuvillette. I truly appreciate it, but I must decline your invitation due to pressing deadlines.”

Neuvillette’s gaze softens, reaching for your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You do not need to apologize, darling. There’s always a next time,” he smiles at you, “If you’d like, perhaps I can make some dinner reservations just for you and me.”

A hand slams down on the table, startling everyone in the room. If the others aren’t awake, they certainly are now. You look over where the commotion is from, only to see Childe huffing and puffing with a pout. Oh, Archons, you forgot Childe is still in the same room. 

“Snookums! How can you forget about me?” Childe whines.

You laugh nervously and rub the back of your neck with your unoccupied hand. You give Neuvillette and Zhongli a sympathetic look before getting ready to leave your seat to comfort Childe. Before you can stand up, Zhongli grabs your other hand and gently pushes you down, shaking his head.

“No need to console him, dearest,” Zhongli says, shooting a pointed look in Childe’s direction.

Childe puckers his lips and groans, turning around and stomping away. You sigh for the umpteenth time, resting your head on the table. Zhongli and Neuvillette both squeeze your hand to comfort you.

Since that day, things have been getting worse between the two men when you’re in the same room as the duo. Whenever you try to make time with Neuvillette, Zhongli would take that chance to tag along. Now, you’re not against Zhongli tagging along with you, but you’re sort of worried about his safety because of the look Neuvillette would throw in Zhongli’s direction. You’re not sure if the men aren’t aware that you can sense the tension between them, but if they do, they don’t seem to care about it. A week (or has it been two weeks?) passes by, and you’re eating dinner with the men in the dining room.

Usually, there isn’t assigned seating at the dining table since you want to be able to sit next to every person in the abode without leaving a single person out. But for some reason, not long after the men from Fontaine moved into the abode, Zhongli and Neuvillette decided that the empty seats beside you (anywhere you sit at the dining table, pretty much) were theirs to claim.

“But Onikabuto booboo bear! I want you to sit next to me this time!” Itto whines, laying the top half of his body on the table while giving you puppy dog eyes, his bottom lips jutting out before fake crying.

Neuvillette raises his eyebrows at Itto beside you, stroking his chin. “Onikabuto booboo bear? Is that supposed to be a nickname for [Y/N]?” Neuvillette murmurs.

Itto stops his act and looks at the Iudex with excitement, nodding rapidly. Itto quickly removes himself from the table before running over to your side of the table (which took a while because the table is quite long). Once he arrives at your side of the table where you, Zhongli, and Neuvillette are sitting, Itto pulls out an empty seat beside Neuvillette and plops down with a heavy sigh.

“In case you haven’t been, uh, informed about how things work around here…” Itto trails off, scratching his head as he tries to find the right words to say, “We,” he gestures to the men in the dining room, “have pet names for our sweet Onikabuto booboo bear.”

Itto places both hands on his hips; a smug smile graces his face. You snicker and shake your head. Zhongli wraps his arms around your waist and plants a kiss on your cheek, ignoring the looks Neuvillette and Childe are giving him. 

“Oh? Please do tell me more about this, Itto. I have been calling [Y/N] “darling,” are we supposed to have a unique nickname for them?” Neuvillette asks, tilting his head while looking at Itto with pure curiosity.

Itto blinks at the Iudex with wide eyes, “Uh…” he trails off, scratching the back of his head before looking over in your and Zhongli’s direction. “Not really. I guess it depends on preferences! I call them Onikabuto booboo bear because, well, I love Onikabutos almost as much as I love [Y/N]! As for the booboo bear part, I wanted it to be unique for them and only for them. Heh, I bet other people on Teyvat wouldn’t be able to come up with someone as interesting and unique as the nickname I give to my Onikabuto booboo bear!” 

You can’t help but melt at Itto’s response. You know that Itto loves his Onikabutos, and hearing his explanation of the nickname he gave you makes you feel so warm and soft inside. You pull away from Zhongli’s grasp, get up from your seat, and walk over to Itto. You wrap your arms around Itto’s shoulders and rest your left cheek on his head, stroking his hair.

“You’re too sweet, Itto. You’re going to make me cry,” you coo, reaching down to pinch his cheek.

Itto’s face turns bright red as he mumbles incoherent words. Noticing the look that Zhongli and Neuvillette shoot in his direction, an idea pops into his head. Itto wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles his face into your chest, making sure not to accidentally poke you with his horns.

Kaveh huffs, propping his head on his elbow. “Hey, Abyss Mage, how come you give them more attention than the rest of us?”

“They love me more, that’s why!” Itto shouts, sticking his tongue out at the miffed architect. Neuvillette lifts his hand to say something, but Itto quickly stands up and lifts you from the ground. “Ha! They’re mine now, losers!” 

“Wha— Itto!” You screech when Itto takes off with you in his arms.

How Itto runs away with you in his arms reminds you of a mother cat carrying her kitten, but in this case, it’s Itto carrying you. The men stand up, shouting at Itto and groaning as they watch the Oni sprint out of the dining room with you while laughing manically. 

Baizhu chuckles, rubbing his temples as he watches the other men leave their seats to chase after you and Itto while shouting profanities. “I’ll be getting the first aid kit, just in case something happens,” Baizhu says, getting up from his seat to go to the infirmary area of the abode. 

You should’ve known that Itto is a magnet for trouble, but while he’s running up the stairs with you in his arms, his feet slip, sending you two tumbling down the stairs. While Neuvillette’s tending to your injuries with Baizhu, Zhongli scolds the pouting Oni.

Neuvillette caresses your face in his hands, “Are you alright? You took a hard tumble down the stairs, and I’m worried about the possibility of you sustaining some injuries.”

“I mean, my arm does hurt, but—”

“Do you guys hear that?” Thoma asks.

Everyone in the room pauses, listening closely. There’s a soft pitter-patter sound coming from the roof. The sound isn’t loud, but it’s noticeable if you sit in a quiet room and listen closely. You continue to rub the arm you landed on, trying to decipher what’s making the pitter-patter noise.

“Is it raining?” Tighnari strokes his chin, heading towards the nearest window, while Aether runs toward the window. 

Scaramouche raises his eyebrows at Tighnari, crossing his arms over his chest. “Since when can it rain in the abode? Maybe you’re hearing things that aren’t correlated with the weather.”

Tighnari ignores Scaramouche’s comment and stands beside Aether in front of the window. Aether peeks from between the curtains before turning to everyone else in the room with wide eyes.

“It can rain in the abode?” Aether asks.

You furrow your eyebrows and get up from your spot, clutching your throbbing arm to your chest. Zhongli places a gentle hand on your shoulder, accompanying you to the window. 

Ayato hums, tapping his chin while watching the raindrops pelt the window. “I never knew that the abode can have such weather. It seems like the rain is getting heavy.”

“Now that I think about it, I believe that it has been a bit gloomier these past few weeks,” you murmur, staring at the dark gray skies from the comfort of the estate with the men who care about you.

The men look at Zhongli before looking over at Neuvillette, who ignores the others' burning holes in his head as he drinks his water elegantly. Zhongli lightly taps your shoulder to grab your attention. You look at Zhongli quizzically while he examines your injured arm with discontentment. 

A small smile appears on Zhongli’s face as he caresses your cheek with one hand. “Let’s get your injury checked. I’m sure Doctor Baizhu has yet to complete the examination.”

Lightning crackling across the sky and thunder filling the air startles everyone in the abode. The heavy rain seems to have gotten worse, and it doesn’t seem like it’ll get better any time soon. Aether clears his throat and gets between you and Zhongli with a polite yet awkward smile. “I’ll take [Y/N] to see Doctor Baizhu, Mister Zhongli.”

Before Zhongli can respond, Aether quickly whisks you away while avoiding the stares from Zhongli and Neuvillette. Baizhu and Aether rush you to another room while the men remain in the same spot, not moving a limb.

Dottore snorts, shaking his head, “Who knew these two men are childish.”

Neuvillette and Zhongli glare at Dottore. A tree branch knocks against the living room window as the rain pelts the roof and window. 

Note: Finally posted something after so long! 😭 The fanfic is most likely awful, but I kind of want to make a part two for it, but I'm not entirely sure if I should. Man, since this is posted, now I have to plan what else to post... aside from the HSR fanfics. I think I'll post a fanfic for HSR instead of Genshin this upcoming week, but I'm not entirely sure. I might change my mind, but who knows. Anywho! To all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

I didn't initially plan on have a taglist for this fic, but since someone requested to be tagged in this fic, I will tag them! Taglist for this fic: @rubyninja1

Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[vaaaaaiolet]

Anxiety left you sleepless all night. Leon figures his favorite dream of you might help.

mdni CIAO CHILDREN!! f / m smut w established relationship. put bluntly, leon fucks the worry out of you 😭 he talks you through sex by retelling a dream, tiny bit of character study, PRAISE!! TONS of fingering, 0.5 sec of cockwarming, light angst, p in v w/ a happy ending iykwim, aftercare and i love you's awww. also strawberries 🍓

a / n: req fic from my event!! i took the premise from isle of strawberries by edwin raphael and you can find a playlist for this fic here. motivational smut is a first for me LMFAO but i hope this works w your vision, anon <3 also PEE AFTER SEX YOU GUYS

word count: 2.5k // read on ao3

The 5 AM sun shines rays through the cracks in your plan. You thought you’d been convincing enough with your face pancake-flat against the pillow and your left arm thrown out of the blanket just so. You’d even made sure you had a foot poking into Leon’s side the way he always grumps about, but somehow, your boyfriend always seems to see right through you.

Just like now. 

A busybody poke on your shoulder. “Sweetheart,” follows a drowsy whisper, “what’re you doing?”

Sleeping since last night, thank you very much.

“No use playing possum. You haven’t moved an inch since we went to bed and you, ma’am, can’t sleep still to save your life. C’mere,” and you’re tugged to Leon’s side of the bed, the top of your head peppered with slow, sleepy kisses as he hugs an arm around your middle. “Did you sleep at all tonight?”

You clutch his forearm like a safety bar on a rollercoaster. “A little.”

“Enough?”

“Um…” 

Leon kisses his teeth. He’s usually the one on the receiving end of these questions, but he’s picked up a couple things from you. “Too hot? Too cold? Anything I can get you?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just can’t fall asleep.”

A quiet sigh from you, a hum of understanding from him.

“Because you’ve been thinking again.” He asks if you want to talk about it.

“It’s just a bad night,” you mumble, playing absentmindedly with his fingers. “Overwhelmed. Been getting into my head about everything I should be doing but don’t. I feel like I’m letting everyone down all the time.” 

In the champagne pink of the early morning light pouring through the bedroom window, your eyes trace the corded muscle of Leon’s arm around you – a testament to the strength it takes to do his job every day. There’s scars here, burn marks there, a plum-hued bruise.

Your words stumble to a halt. Embarrassed color rises to your cheeks. 

The matter is that scars from his missions to the ends of the earth litter the chest cradling your back right now. Leon must be sore and aching, listening to you whine like a child with too much food on your plate. What could be keeping you up at night when he shoulders your worst nightmares for a living? All while you lay cuddled and coddled? You don’t know the first thing about worry, the paralysis in his bones that must pale to yours.

Guilt creeps up your spine, and Leon frowns at your sudden silence. You’re retreating into a shell he’s called home too many times. He won’t have any of that with you. 

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” he soothes, smoothing back your hair. “I’m still here. You don’t wanna talk right now?” 

You let go of his arm and burrow into your pillow, mumble about how you like sleeping late on weekends anyway.

A scoff sounds behind you. “Sleep late, my ass.” 

Leon’s arm comes circling back over your ribs in an instant. He squeezes you so tight to his chest that you feel his heart thump behind your back, and you can’t help the unexpected laugh that bubbles up your throat when he lets go. It’s his favorite reflex of yours.

“If you won’t talk, I will.” Leon presses a kiss to your cheek. “Gonna distract you for a bit, sweetheart. Humor me?”

“Hm?”

“I wanna tell you about my favorite dream. You’re in it.”

You can’t pretend that doesn’t catch your attention like lightning to a rod. Leon doesn’t dream much, not besides the nightmares that have him scrambling to throw off the covers in the middle of the night. 1998 hangs thick in the air of your bedroom some days, but for him to have a dream where you don’t die for a change? That’s new. 

So is his hand starting to creep under your sleep shirt, playful circles tracing on the soft skin below your navel. Part of his distraction strategy. A successful one, if the skip in your heart rate has anything to do with it.

“This okay?” he rasps.

More than. 

You reach behind, cradling his cheek to kiss him a proper hello; allow yourself an anticipatory inhale when Leon’s hand dives under the waistband of your shorts. It takes exactly three seconds for his middle finger to pinpoint the pearl of your clit, and he circles it twice, maddeningly slow, before sliding right under to trace along the seam of your entrance. 

Leon keeps the pressure light. He needs your head clear so you listen. 

“It always starts the same.” He shifts his hips so yours widen for him. “I’m standing in the middle of a huge field, a strawberry farm. There’s nothing around for miles, just rows of bushes full of berries and storm clouds in the distance. I find an empty basket in my hand.”

You imagine your mountain of a boyfriend holding a basket like Strawberry Shortcake. Adorable. “You dream about picking strawberries?” you giggle, arching your back to fit more comfortably against him, and your consideration earns you a searing dip of his finger into your pooling arousal. 

“That,” Leon chuckles, “and a nagging, sinking feeling that I should be doing something but I can’t.”

Oh. 

“Mhm. It hits me that I have to pick as many strawberries as I can before the storm rolls in, and I can’t even move, sweetheart.”

You swallow the returning lump in your throat. Push down a sigh that was building at the upward roll of his fingertip inside you. Leon tuts at your effort, coaxing the sound out anyway with a press of the spongy spot he knows is tucked at the back of your walls. You crumple at the delicious nudge; it leaves you open to welcome another finger into your warmth.

“But this is a good dream because,” Leon smiles at your next gasp, “then I see you at the edge of the field standing next to a little house, waving at me.” 

He scissors you open like he’s got all the time in the world. You clutch the corner of your pillow when you hear it through the comforter: the soft, rhythmic squelch of his fingers curling into your cunt.

Pretending he can’t hear your whimpered little curses as he coos in your ear, “There you go, listen to that,” Leon continues. “That’s when I start thinking. There’s no way I can save all these strawberries in time. You’re standing there, smiling at me without a clue there’s a storm brewing, and suddenly all I can think about is getting you into the house before you get hurt.”

His lesson becomes one of endurance the more he talks. The fingers pumping into your pussy melt your brain into mush that’s chanting, more, more! Exactly the root of your problem.

“So then I- oh, poor baby. This isn’t enough?” 

Shit. You forgot you talk in your sleep. And apparently when you get fingered too. 

“Guess I can’t blame you. I get distracted in the dream too, fuck.” There’s a pause, a sputtering stop to the lovely fullness when Leon pulls his fingers out and promptly sucks them off. 

Even a worm will turn; you certainly do. You whine Leon’s name when he makes a show of it, gazing at you with half-moon eyes and a boyish grin pulling at his lips. “What, it’s my fault you taste better than the strawberries did?” 

No, for leaving you hanging. You were paying attention — maybe a bit too much.

“It was you, by the way,” Leon chuckles, lifting the comforter so his knees can bracket your thighs. 

“I distracted you in the dream?” you gasp, sliding your hands up his shirt.

“In the best way, angel. You helped me get moving again.”

The peachy light of dawn caramelizes gold as Leon climbs on top of you. It doesn’t warm the bedroom quite yet; Leon makes sure the comforter is tucked over your bare skin after he finishes kicking off his pajama pants. He’s back to murmuring sweet nothings, gently tugging your shirt over your shoulders so he can kiss down the swell of your breasts. You’re so toasty under the covers that the goosebumps now speckling your chest are entirely his fault. 

“I remember you picking a few berries off a bush,” Leon looks fondly up at you under golden lashes, pressing a gentle kiss over your heart, “and you just looked so content eating them. I was fretting over saving the whole field and you were fine with a handful.”

You’re itching to ask: but the storm’s still coming, isn’t it? Thunder, rain, your aching cunt dripping onto the sheets right under him. 

Leon is all too happy to answer. 

One hand cradles the back of your head so he can drop his mouth onto yours, leaving the other free to slip under the blankets, rub consolation over the hood of your clit, and finally, finally, notch the swollen head of his cock at your entrance. You cry out, clutching at Leon’s hair when he sheaths himself in a buttery-smooth stroke – as if it could be any other way with how you’ve melted like chocolate in his hands. You both gasp at the stretch.

Leon’s jaw works as he kisses you, savoring you. Spit bridges your mouths in between split-second gulps of air. Your heart thumps against your ribcage like you’re hanging off a precipice, no difference in the dizzying drop that waits ahead. His length sits adjusting inside the squeeze of your plush walls. 

Leon’s sentences come out chopped and desperate as he alternates sucking berry-toned love bites between your breasts, and he admits, “I don’t save the all the strawberries.”

You wheeze as if you’ve dashed across the field yourself. “No?”

“Just enough to last us the storm. Fuck the rest, figure it’ll grow back. Only need to focus on what matters – getting enough for you – so I pick a couple,” the thick of his cock is suffocating when it’s this still, “run,” Leon pants at the first snap of his hips against yours, outrunning the storm all over again, “and pull you inside the house before lightning strikes.”

Electric pleasure curls up from the base of your spine, spreads to your head and flickers down to your toes as Leon starts pounding into your pussy. No room in your chest for anxiety to linger when your eyes are rolling skyward. The edges of your vision melt into vignette as your lover sinks into you again and again. 

Tunnel vision. 

“Keep those pretty eyes open. Focus on what matters,” he repeats in a frenzied whisper, and the tunnel closes in.

All you see are Leon’s eyes. Smack dab in the middle of his blown out pupils is your reflection.

That’s it.

Coherency goes flying out the window with all your brainpower used up to connect the dots. “Leon, you-!”

“Tell me what you see, sweetheart,” he breathes sharply. “I know you can.”

You beg for mercy at each dig of his blunt cockhead. “Me, I get it, fuck! Please- just let me come!”

Course he can, he just has to drill something else into you first. 

“Need to hear you say it,” Leon grits. Nips at the base of your neck as your nails claw stinging holds on his shoulders. “Shit, I’ll make you see stars, don’t worry, I just need to – oh, you’re so fucking tight! – get it in your head. You can’t shut down on me.”

You thrash under him, make more space for bruising kisses to bloom up your neck. “But you’ve had it worse,” you sob out, overwhelmed. 

“How else do you think I know?”

He’s not letting you head off into your own storm alone. Not when you’ve saved him from his.

“Tell me you’ll let me in next time you get in your head, and I’ll make you come. I’ll make you come so fucking good, baby,” Leon hisses, stealing one last kiss from your panting lips. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

“I will.”

And you ought to thank your lucky stars your levees don’t hold. 

It starts with spiraling cracks. Leon reaching down to press his thumb over your swollen clit. One shaky thrust away from dislodging the last brick holding you together. A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it flutter of your cunt, choked breaths torn from his throat when the silken clutch of your walls sends him into that final crescendo. 

Leon’s fraying at the edges, obsessive in how rolls his thumb at the bundle of nerves that make you shriek his name, and you, hand in hand with him, finally let the swelling tsunami in the pit of your stomach topple your walls. 

Turns out he’s right. Stars explode across the night sky when your eyes squeeze shut. 

You can’t pay attention to much except the rolling tide of pleasure. Leon’s soon spilling into you, his brow pinched as he blindly works his spend into your cunt under the covers. His forehead glistens with sweat, hell, your baby hairs are a dripping mess, but strangely, you think you’ll spend the rest of your life chasing this warmth again. 

Your heart’s never felt more weightless. 

Glowing seconds sail by. Leon’s shaking arms eventually give way and he collapses onto your chest. You let out an “oof!” at the drop. 

“And then the dream ends,” you hear him sigh, eyelids fluttering shut.

About time, you think, smiling as you brush a thumb over his cheekbone. “Then you wake up?”

“No.” Leon cracks open a sapphire eye and grins. “Sometimes we do this.”

In the little hou- Oh. “Fuck you,” you laugh.

“It’s my favorite for a lot of reasons!” 

He sits up, keeping his touch featherlight when he pulls himself out from between your candied thighs. Tiny aftershocks jerk your thighs once, twice, and Leon takes the time to whisper soft apologies when he reaches for a tissue on the bedside table. 

“I meant it back there, y’know?” he hums, gently wiping off the mess between your legs. “I hate seeing you so hard on yourself.”

“It just feels like I’m making a big deal out of nothing. Especially when you’ve been through worse,” you mumble, picking at the covers.  

The tissue gets tossed into the trash, and Leon shoots you a small smile. “Worse to you, maybe. To me, the worst thing I’ve seen is watching you lose your spark and not being able to help.”

“You really think so?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I love you.”

So you remember your promise. 

You tell him you love him too, no more secrets to keep in your head. The bedroom blooms warmer than you remember it ever being, a little slice of summer straight out of both your dreams.

You remember the strawberries from the farmer’s market in the kitchen, and that Leon makes killer Sunday pancakes.

You remember how much you love afternoon catnaps with your limbs tangled between his. Infinite possibilities pile high like the papers on your work desk. So much to get started.

Focus on what matters. The rest will grow back.

You turn the other cheek, and kiss your lover on the mouth.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[spicy-apple-pie]

Can someone PLEASE write a Cass joins the Batfam early fic???

She and Jason are the same age and this is kinda the first time she meets someone her age. When he reaches out a hand to shake, she fucking Judo flips him and pins him to the ground.

Bruce quickly gets Cassandra off and gently explains to her that Jason is a friend and we don’t hurt friends. Jason wants to be mad, but she looked absolutely petrified when Bruce raised his voice and actually really ashamed that she hurt him. So he forgives her pretty quickly.

Jason also loves reading to her. They start with picture books, as they allow her to connect the images with words and such. But she’s a quick learner and soon can read books without pictures.

All according to Jason’s plan.

He quickly introduces her to his favourite books and he can babble on and on about them. He makes sure to ask Cass open ended questions so she feels encouraged to talk with him.

Dick comes for a visit and absolutely freaks out on Bruce. Like what do you MEAN you got another one? Why? I thought we talked about this?

Cass takes a while to warm up to Dick. But decides he’s her favourite after he bribes her with ice cream.

Bruce doesn’t know if it’s because Jason doesn’t like to be touched a whole lot, but he swears children are not as clingy as Cass. Bruce gave her a hug one time, and Cass has been on that dopamine rush ever since. All sense of personal space went right out the window when she experienced touch that wasn’t meant to hurt her. If Bruce is working in his office, Cassandra will come in, not address Bruce in anyway, and squirm her way onto his lap and just sit there.

She does this to like, everyone. She’ll lay next to Jason as he reads. She holds Alfred’s hand while he cleans. Once she straight up climbed Dick to sit on his shoulders because he held her up there one time and she just made herself at home.

This helps Jason become more comfortable with physical affection too. Jason will wake up from a nightmare to Cass staring at him.

“Agh! What the fuck, Cass!?”

“Scared.”

“What?”

“You are scared. Frightmare.”

“Yeah. I had a nightmare.”

“Nightmare.” Cass corrects herself.

“Yeah, am alright now though.” Jason goes to roll over and Cass stops him.

“Liar.”

“What? I’m not lying!” Okay, maybe it would take him a good hour to finally calm down enough to sleep, but he’s fine.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” Cassandra teased him.

“Seriously, Cass I’m fi-“ Cass drags him out of bed and marches him to Bruce’s room.

Bruce sleepily questions what two bodies are doing his bed instead of the usually single body (again, Cass has no concept of personal space so often sleeps with Bruce).

“Jason had a nightmare.” Cass says as she forcibly tucks Jason in beside him.

“Oh, Jaylad.” Bruce rolls over. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah but…” Jason thinks about going to his bedroom, but Cass is already cuddled up beside him. “Is it okay if I sleep in here for tonight?”

[dreaming-medium]

Stray Kids Kinktober Day 10

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Praise Kink - Hyunjin

Word Count: 11.7K

Summary: As a lead detective in the police department, you've been assigned to solve a serial killer case, but you've hit a point where you can no longer work on the case by yourself. Hwang Hyunjin, the golden child of the police department and your sworn rival, is assigned as your partner.

---------------------------------------

You have officially run out of red string. 

The cork board in the conference room doesn’t have any more open spaces for new leads or clues. You can’t even see the brown of the board anymore. 

Instead of whittling information down, you’ve only come up with more suspects for the case. 

It’s better than the case going cold, sure, but it feels like you’re getting further and further from actually solving the damn thing. 

It also doesn’t help that you not only have Chief Bang breathing down your neck, but the entire city as well. You understand, really, everyone wants a killer to be caught. 

But these sort of things take time. 

And they usually don’t have a million and thirty leads. Typically, you were lucky to have one. 

Everyone in the city has a tip. And you have to check each and every single one. 

Three sharp knocks draw your exhausted attention away from the board. 

“Come in!” You call out. 

The door clicks open and dress shoes click on the floor. 

“I think you’re going to need another cork board soon, Detective.”

Your mood curdles like milk. 

“What do you want, Hwang?”

Hwang Hyunjin, the department’s top detective and your least favorite person in the world.  

Every case he touches is solved. Every last one of them. But maybe— just maybe— it’s because he gets to pick and choose which ones he’s assigned to. 

The golden child of the police department. The biggest, cockiest pain in the ass you’ve ever met. 

He clicks his tongue and walks up to the conference table you’re leaning against. 

“I have a whole new stack of tips for you.” 

The sound of a thick stack of papers hits the table, you cringe. 

You haven’t even finished going through the last stack. 

“And I am once again humbly offering my assistance on this case.”

You look over at him for the first time tonight. His long black hair is pulled back with a few strands dangling in front of his face. 

He wears a pressed dress shirt, black tie, black vest, and slacks. 

Truly, it looks like he popped off a magazine cover and you hate it. 

“And I am humbly declining. I can handle this on my own, thank you.” 

Your own heels click along the floor as you come around the conference table to sit down in front of the first stack of papers. 

Hyunjin shoves his hands in his pockets and meanders closer to the cork board. 

He looks up and down all the different leads, the ever expanding list of suspects, murder weapons, locations. He’s silent for a long moment. 

The only sound in the room is the clock ticking on the wall. 

What time is it anyway? You’ve been here since 4 AM when a call came in about another victim. The bags under your eyes surely look like bruises at this point. 

Since you started on this case two months ago there hasn’t been a single night where you’ve gotten more than five hours of sleep. 

Words are blending together on the paper. Is the sun up?

Warily, you turn and eye Hyunjin, who’s still staring at the cork board. His head cocks to the side as he studies all the different clues littering the surface. 

He takes a deep breath and turns to look at you. You point an accusatory finger at him. 

“No! No, no. You’re not coming in here and solving my case that I’ve been working on for months!”

His mouth shuts, a smirk appears. 

Oh, you want to smack it off his face. 

“I was only going to say—“

“No! Nothing! I do not need your help! Get out of here!” You shoo him away. 

“L/N—“ he tries again. 

“Shut it!”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes and sucks his teeth while making his way to the door. 

You glare daggers into the back of his head, praying that a ceiling tile will miraculously fall and crush him. 

He grabs the door handle and walks into the hallway. Right before the door closes, he peeks his head in through the crack. 

“The killer is ambidextrous,” he says in a sing-songy voice. 

A frustrated, muted scream tears from your throat and you hurl the nearest object— which happens to be a metal cup full of pens and pencils— at the door. 

It shuts before the cup makes contact. 

Hyunjin’s laugh comes through the closed door and it only makes your blood boil more. 

You slam your head down onto the wood desk. 

“Of course he’s ambidextrous.”

---------------------------------------

“Detective L/N,” Chief Bang’s head pokes into the conference room. “Can I see you in my office please?”

You haven’t gone home yet. You’re in the same clothes as yesterday except now they’re more wrinkled. 

Nodding, you put down your pen and tell your chief you’ll be there in a minute. 

He hums and leaves the room. 

You rub the heels of your palms into your eyes to try and get the exhaustion out of them. 

About 100 ounces of coffee is flowing through your body but it’s doing nothing to wake you up, all it’s doing is increasing your heart rate. 

To anyone else who wanders through your police department, they might think you’ve escaped the morgue.

The walk to Chief Bang’s office was short. 

As soon as you step inside, your heart sinks. 

The chief sits behind his desk, but that’s not why your stomach turns. 

Hyunjin takes up one of the chairs, another freshly pressed suit on his body. 

The man is flawless and it makes you want to become a suspect for one of your cases. 

“Take a seat, detective.” Chief Bang motions to the other empty chair. 

Hyunjin looks up at you, arms crossed over his chest. A smug smirk pulls on his lips as he takes in your disheveled appearance. 

You tongue your cheek for a moment and flip your hair over your shoulder before sitting down. Your fingers iron out deep wrinkles in your pencil skirt. 

You try to maintain some level of pride. It’s comical, really.

“Now, I’ll cut right to the chase here, Y/N, it’s not that I don’t trust your abilities as a detective, I do.”

You deflate. 

“But this case is becoming too much for one person.”

Your jaw clenches. 

So badly you want to refute that claim, to tell Chief Bang that you have it handled, it’s no big deal. But that’s a lie and you both know it. 

And the smug asshole next to you definitely knows it. 

“Detective Hwang has kindly offered his assistance on the case, so I’m assigning him as your partner on this.”

You think for a moment. “Can I get a different partner? I think Detective Kim just closed his last case, meaning he’s available to help.” 

“Detective Kim started a new case this morning.”

“Detective Lee?”

“Busy.”

“Officer Yang?”

“He’s not even a detective.”

“What about Detective Seo?”

Chief Bang stays silent, deadpan eyes watch you. He cocks his head to the side. 

You sink back in the chair. 

“I specialize in homicide cases, L/N.” Hyunjin pipes up from next to you. “I’m the best one for the case and you know it.”

“Zip it, Hwang.”

Hyunjin scoffs. 

Chief Bang rolls his eyes, his patience obviously wearing thin. “Y/N, I’m going to need you to swallow your pride for the sake of the city. There’s a murderer on the loose, remember? You’re my top detectives, it would be stupid not to partner you together.”

You can’t meet his eyes, you look off to the side, crossing your arms over your chest. Anxiously, your leg begins to bounce.

“Put your personal feelings aside, Y/N.”

Silence falls over the room. Both of the men wait for you. 

It really doesn’t feel like you have a choice, here. Obviously, you don’t. 

“Fine.”

“Great!” Hyunjin taps his hands on the arms of the chair and then pops up. “I’m going to need access to all the files you’ve been looking at these past two months as well as the extra key to the conference room.”

He grabs his trench coat off the back of the chair. 

“I’ll also need you to catch me up to speed on the latest tips from civilians; you did have time to read those last night, right? Additionally, I think we should rearrange our hours so that we’re on duty together until this is solved.”

He makes his way towards the door. 

“Come on, L/N! We’ll discuss over coffee.”

You stare at Chief Bang. He offers you a slightly amused, slightly sympathetic smile. 

“Best of luck, detectives.”

---------------------------------------

The hot mug rests between both of your shaky hands. Hyunjin sat across from you in a large diner booth. 

Files littered the entirety of the top of the table. It’s all things you’ve seen before and practically have memorized by now. 

You explained everything you knew to him from the beginning, sparing no detail. 

College girls were all found murdered in their dorms. No security footage of anyone going in or out of the building that doesn’t belong there. 

Each victim is about two weeks apart. 

A half eaten fruit cup sits next to your coffee. ‘Fruit cup’ is a loose term since more than half of it was honeydew melon. 

Why can’t they just throw a few strawberries in there? Slice up a banana or toss a few blueberries in? They already have the fruit in the back for the pancakes, it would be so easy to—

“I don’t think this victim is from the same killer.”

Your head snaps up and you glare at Hyunjin. “Who?”

He slides the file across the table to you. “Andrea Bowman. She doesn’t fit the same profile as the other victims. All the others were blonde, Andrea has brown hair.”

You sip at your coffee, glazed eyes scanning the file. You’re simply too tired to keep up the anger.  

“I had thought the same thing at first. But according to the coroner, her time of death would put her as the first victim of the killer, first victims of serial killers tend to not fit the profile of the rest since it’s the first taste.”

Her autopsy stares up at you. 

“Plus, everything else is consistent with the rest, bruised wrists and ankles and a slit throat. They’re all college aged girls who went to the local community college.”

You slide the crime scene photos around, taking in all the details. 

“Maybe she wasn’t his victim.” One of her school photos peeks out from the bottom of the stack, you pick it up and look at it solemnly. “But something tells me she was his first.”

Hyunjin watches you closely, any rebuttal he had died on the tip of his tongue. 

Plates clatter in the kitchen.  

Your nose scrunches and you pack away Andrea’s file. 

“You said they all go to the same school?”

“Yeah, the community college.”

“Did they all study the same thing?”

You shake your head, taking another sip of coffee. “Nope, all different fields of study, all different extracurriculars. They didn’t even live in the same dorm building.”

Hyunjin leans back against the booth and picks up his iced coffee, taking a long sip while staring out the window. 

Your fingers run through your hair. “I requested their transcripts and class schedules from every year but I’m waiting on all those requests to process. With how slow the registrar’s office is taking you would swear they didn’t want this case solved.”

“Red tape always gets in the way.” Hyunjin reaches down in his pocket and takes his phone out, tapping a few buttons and then holding it up to his ear. 

You cock an eyebrow at him, he only holds up a finger at you. You scoff. 

“Dianne? Hi, it’s Hyunjin!… I’m doing so well, and you? … That’s great to hear! … Yes, yes those homemade cookies were to die for.”

Your mouth falls open a bit. Who in the hell was he talking to? Homemade cookies?

Throwing your hands up in front of your face, you give him a flabbergasted look. 

He narrows his eyes at you and gives you a look that says ‘be quiet’.

“Listen, I was actually calling to cash in a favor, I have a list of students I need transcripts and schedules of for a case. … I can email it over to you, it’s for the— … yes, yes that one.”

You slow blink at him. Does he have a contact at the registrar’s office? Of course he does, why wouldn’t he have one?

The golden child strikes again. 

“You’re a darling, Dianne, thank you. I’ll send it to you asap. … of course, say hello to Rob for me. Bye!”

He hangs up and puts his phone back on the table. 

Hyunjin takes one look at your face and shrugs. “What? I helped her with a personal matter when I was a P.I.”

If you roll your eyes anymore, they’ll go into the back of your head. 

“So do you have a list—“

You interrupt him. “Yeah.”

“Can you—“

“Mhmm.”

You finish your coffee and reach into your purse, digging out a ten dollar bill and tossing it onto the table. 

“Where are you going?” He asks you. 

“Home,” you respond simply while shuffling out of the booth. “I haven’t slept since Monday.”

Hyunjin looks down at the various files on the table. “What about the list?”

You move the files around and pull out one of the papers and place it in front of him. 

“It’s right here. I’ll see you tomorrow, Hwang.”

“Tomorrow? But what about—“

“If Dianne gets the list back to you, just forward it to me. I’ll look at it when I wake up.” Your voice is full of venom. 

“I really think we should look at it together.” His eyes narrow. “We’re partners on this, remember?”

“As if you would even need my help,” you spit out. “By the time I come in tomorrow, you’ll probably have the entire case solved, the perp arrested, and all the paperwork done before I even pour my coffee.”

The more you talk, the more your anger levels rise. You lean over him in the booth, one of your hands on the back of the seat to keep you balanced. 

Hyunjin’s eyes widen and he leans back as you go forward. 

“The golden boy will strike again, solving a case that I’ve been working on for months and getting all the credit. Because that’s just how good you are. Mr. Perfect. Everything about you is just amazing.”

He gulps and shifts around. A red tint creeps up on his face. 

And for the first time since you met him, Hwang Hyunjin is speechless. His mouth opens to say something several times but no sound comes out. 

“Now. If you’ll excuse me.” You stand back up and turn on a heel, leaving the diner and a very flustered detective behind. 

---------------------------------------

Knock after knock after knock after knock bangs on your apartment door. 

You’re not sure of how long whoever’s been knocking has been at it, but it takes you a solid thirty seconds to wake up fully. You had peacefully drifted into a very deep sleep the moment your head hit the pillow. 

The entire bedroom is pitch black, the sun no longer in the sky. The clock on your nightstand displays that it’s around 1 AM. 

“What the fuck?” You slur out. It’s so hard to open your eyes right now. 

The knocking persists.

With all the grace of a drunken newborn deer, you slither out of bed and make your way to your front door. 

You flip on a light on your way there. 

Staring through the peephole, a frown pulls at your face as soon as you see who’s banging on your door at this ungodly hour. 

You rip the door open, startling Hyunjin. His hand still hangs in the air when you open it. 

“Finally!” He shoves past you and into your apartment. 

“No, please, come on in.” You growl and shut the door, securing all the locks in place again. 

Behind you, you hear him slam a stack of papers onto your kitchen island. 

“I forwarded you the transcripts hours ago but you didn’t answer.”

“I told you I would look at them when I woke up.”

He takes in your disheveled appearance with judging eyes. Your hair was all frizzy and out of place, a loose t-shirt hung off one shoulder and was so big you couldn’t see the shorts underneath. 

His Adam’s Apple bobs with a swallow. 

It was obvious he wasn’t used to seeing you in such a relaxed state. He was still wearing his dress pants from earlier, but he only had a dress shirt on with his trench coat over the top. 

“You’re awake now, aren’t you?” He looks back down at the stack of files and opens them up, spreading papers everywhere. 

You come up to the table and look down at everything. 

Semesters of different class schedules stare back at you. Some have highlighted portions, others are still blank. He seems to have given up in the middle of doing it himself, opting to bring it here. 

You tongue your cheek, looking over what you can see so far.

It’s going to be a long night.

“I’ll make coffee.”

---------------------------------------

Hours have passed, the sleepiness and weariness of being woken up has been replaced by the delightful thrum of caffeine in your veins.

After about a half an hour of going through the transcripts, you quietly asked Hyunjin if he was alright with you playing music softly. 

He stared at you with wide eyes, “Ah, yeah, of course, that’s fine.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m just… not used to you asking for permission before doing something.”

Grumbling, you rolled your eyes and picked your phone up to scroll through playlists. You settled on a calmer one full of music from artists like Lord Huron and Tom Rosenthal. 

Since then the two of you have been silently going through each schedule. 

Biting the end of the highlighter absentmindedly, you study the class schedule. 

“I’m only seeing one similarity.” You say out loud. Hyunjin looks up. “This one class, it’s a gen ed Physics class. But each of these girls took it, all at different times though.”

“Which class?”

“PHYS 100. Same Professor– Dr. Furon.”

“Do you think we should bring the professor in for questioning?” he asks.

“Couldn’t hurt. Right now he’s the only common denominator. Is it anywhere on your transcript?”

Hyunjin flips through the pages. “Yep, right here, her freshman spring semester back in 2020.”

You pull out a sticky note and write down that info. 

“Can you go through each one and tell me when they took the course?”

Hyunjin gathers all the stapled packets of papers up. “Yeah.”

---------------------------------------

You and Hyunjin stood shoulder to shoulder looking through the one way glass. 

A near ninety year old man sat on the other side. 

“So,” Hyunjin says to break the silence. 

“So.”

“It can’t be him.”

“Obviously.”

Another long moment of silence. 

He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Do you want to question him or should I?”

You sigh, watching as the professor fidgets with a loose string on his sweater sleeve. The officers had completely forgone the handcuffs, allowing him to sit at the table freely. 

They also rolled in a comfier chair and gave him a cup of coffee. 

“My case. I’ll do it.”

“ Our case.”

“Shut it, Hwang.”

You make your way into the interrogation room with a notepad tucked under your arm. 

The professor looks up as soon as you open the door. He shakily stands up from his seat with proper manners. 

You smile gently. “Dr. Furon, thank you so much for taking the time to come down.”

Both of you shake hands before sitting down. His grip is not firm whatsoever. 

Arthritis. 

“Oh, it’s no matter. Happy to be of help.”

You place the notepad down and scoot your chair in. “I’ll get right to it since I can see you’ll be our best help here. When analyzing the list of victims, we saw that each of them had taken your class before. It’s a small lead, I know, but it’s too much to sweep under the rug.”

He nods, listening carefully. He blanches and leans back. “I didn’t realize I had each of them. There are so many students in each section, there’s not enough time to learn names.”

He shakes his head. 

“I had recognized a few in the paper, but I try not to do too much digging, it hurts too much to look into. I don’t know how you detectives do it.”

You reach across the table and grab his hands warmly. “I feel the same way about physics, I don’t know how you do it. All those equations.”

Dr. Furon cracks a smile. “Someone has to. But I do have help with all my courses. Each student has a specific discussion section once a week with a smaller class size, but they’re all taught by graduate students.”

You jot that down on your notebook and lean your chair back. You knock once on the window.

“On it.” Hyunjin’s muffled voice comes through the glass. 

“Just one more question, Dr. Furon, I won’t take up any more of your time, this has been very valuable. Are there any students or people that you come in contact with that maybe trigger some alarm bells or a gut instinct?”

He shifts around, he really thinks about it. 

“I really can’t think of anything, detective, I’m sorry. The girls’ names that I recognize were normal students too, granted they weren’t the best, but I do know they were doing their very best. Breaks my heart.”

You scribble that down and stand up. 

“Thank you very much for your time, Dr. Furon. We greatly appreciate your help.”

He nods and stands up as well. “Of course, if I can do anything else, please give me a call.”

“If you think of anything else, here’s my card.” You reach across the table and hand him a small business card. 

You showed the professor out of the room, asking if he needed anything. He patted your arm sweetly before leaving. 

When you turn around, Hyunjin is standing there, waving a file around. 

You roll your eyes. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

---------------------------------------

Your apartment has become the unofficial meeting place for both you and Hyunjin once your shifts are over. The department wasn’t great for concentration. 

They say not to take work home with you, but your home is so much cozier. 

It’s only about 8 PM. Takeout containers take up a small portion of the kitchen island. 

Another pot of coffee is brewing. 

“So, between the victims, there are five different graduate students that taught their discussion sections. And one of them graduated last year.” Hyunjin flips through his notes. 

You run your hands through your hair. 

“So, four graduate students.”

“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’. 

“Do we have any information on the four students?”

“No, but we have enough cause to bring them down to the station for questioning.”

You sigh and pick up your phone. “Let’s do that, then.”

A message is sent off to Chief Bang, he replies immediately saying he’ll contact them immediately and have them brought in and that he’ll call you when you can come in. 

“I just don’t think it was any of the graduate students.” Hyunjin adds, sliding papers around to grab a victim’s file. 

“I agree.”

He doesn’t seem to hear you. “Two of the graduate students are women— women don’t commit murders like this, the other two are masters in their field with promising careers.”

“I know, I agree with you, Hwang.”

“And I just don’t think that— wait, you agree?”

You stare at him with a blank expression. “Yes, I agree with you.”

He shifts around on the seat. His mouth opens and closes a few times before actually speaking. “You agree?”

Rolling your eyes, you place the papers down on the table. “Hwang, you know I would rather die than agree with you, but in this case, yes, I agree, I think you’re right.”

“Oh.”

Looking back down at the papers, you absentmindedly read a sentence in one of the witness statements. “I know you get the job done, I’m not going to put personal feelings before a case.”

Hyunjin fidgets more. “So, you think I’m a good detective?”

Is he serious?

You roll your eyes, still not looking up. “Yes, Hwang. Chief Bang has proclaimed you as one of the greatest detectives— everyone at the station knows that.”

“I just didn’t think you thought that way.”

“I’m not here to stroke your ego, Hwang.”

He clears his throat and shifts forward on his chair. “But do you , Y/L L/N, think I’m a good detective?”

Putting the paper down on the counter, you look up at him with a cocked eyebrow and a frown. “Really? Do your work.”

“Not until you say it.” He smirks and crosses his arms over his chest. 

Rolling your eyes, you look down once more. What was on this page again?

“Choke.”

Hyunjin takes a breath to say something, but your phone lights up with a call at the same time. Expecting it to be Chief Bang, you answer quickly. 

“Detective L/N.” 

“Detective!” An old voice comes from the other line. You pull your phone back to look at the unknown number and then bring it back to your ear. 

Hyunjin’s attention peaks at your confusion.

“It’s Dr. Furon, I apologize for calling so suddenly.”

“Oh, hi Doctor, it’s no trouble at all.” You look around for your notepad. 

“Put it on speaker,” Hyunjin hisses while leaning forward. You shoo him off. He reaches forward to grab the phone from you, you smack his hand. 

“I remembered something I didn’t get a chance to say earlier, I’m so sorry I didn’t think of it,” Dr. Furon continues. 

“That’s quite alright, it’s the reason I gave you my number. Now, what is it?” You grab a pen and a random piece of paper. 

Hyunjin reaches again, you smack his hand once more. “Speaker!” He grumbles again. 

Dr. Furon talks, unaware of the petty brawl happening on the other line. “All of the students that are struggling in my class, I point them to the tutoring center in the library. As far as I remember, the names that were in the paper, the ones I recognize at least, they were going to the tutoring center.”

Your eyes widen and you write it down quickly. 

Hyunjin’s patience wears out, he stands up from the counter and comes around to your side, his face dipping down to press his ear to the other side of the phone. 

“Is there only one tutor available for your class?” you ask, jotting down notes. 

“I’m not sure, I’m sorry. You know, now that I think of it, on their final exams, I give extra credit if they write down that they went to tutoring and name their tutor.”

“Do you have those exams?” Hyunjin asks into the phone. You reach over and flick his forehead. He swats your hand away. 

“Oh, Detective Hwang, how are you?” Dr. Furon says politely. 

“I’m doing very well, thank you.”

You go to smack him again, he once more swats your hand away.

The professor comes back to the conversation. “I have them but they’re in my office. Would you two mind coming to campus to get them tomorrow?”

“Of course,” both you and Hyunjin say at the same time. 

You sneer and push his face away. 

“Great!” Dr. Furon gives you all the details for tomorrow and the two of you hang up. 

Placing your phone on the counter, you stand up to get away from Hyunjin. 

“You could've put it on speaker.” 

“You could’ve been patient!” Grabbing the nearest object— a tissue box— you hurl it at him. 

Hyunjin only laughs and catches it. 

“Putting more coffee on?”

“Obviously.”

---------------------------------------

“It’s the same one,” you say incredulously, flipping through the exams that Dr. Furon had given the two of you. 

While you got the papers from the professor’s office, Hyunjin had gone to the tutoring center for a list of tutors. Apparently he had a connection there as well. 

The two of you now sat in the conference room with your original cork board to the side. New leads and pictures right smack in the middle. 

You had spent the day questioning the graduate students, but as you suspected, it was a dead end. No one knew anything. 

The exams spread over the table were the best lead. 

“It is,” he mutters in agreement and disbelief. 

“Eric Rowan.” 

“Do you think…?” Hyunjin trails off. 

“I do,” you state clearly. “I really do.”

Shaking your head, you flip through the exams over and over to make sure you’re right, to make sure you’re not looking past something. 

You’re not jumping to conclusions, are you?

Hyunjin suddenly stands up from the table and makes his way to the door. “I’ll have the chief get someone to bring him down to the station.”

He didn’t even give a second thought to your decision. 

The door clicks after him. The silence inside the room is deafening. 

It would be perfect if you could play music like you do at home. 

“Eric Rowan,” you whisper solemnly. 

One tutor from the library at the university. 

It would make sense. 

Hyunjin had managed to get Eric’s entire tutoring log, every student he’s ever tutored had been included. 

You were able to highlight each and every one of the girls’ names that were victims of these heinous crimes. There were about two weeks of time between their last tutoring session and when they were found dead. 

One name stuck out, one name brought you an endless sigh of relief: Andrea Bowman.  

It made your skin crawl, but you instantly noticed she was the first female he tutored during his time. 

Slowly, the pieces started clicking. Your throat got a bit tight, it was difficult to swallow the emotions. 

You look around and grab her file underneath a huge stack. Her school picture is the top photo paper clipped on the inside. 

Andrea’s smiling face will haunt you for a long time. 

Hyunjin came back into the room, you didn’t look up. 

“Chief just sent someone out to get him, we’re getting interrogation room two ready for him, I think that— L/N?”

Your head snaps up and you sniffle. 

“Sorry,” your voice is hoarse. 

He shifts his weight in the doorway. “Everything finally hitting?”

You bite your lip and look back at Andrea’s picture. “Yeah.” 

Standing up from the table, you close the file and tuck it underneath a few more. 

“The guy hasn’t even confessed yet, I’m getting ahead of myself here. It just makes too much sense. These girls stopped going to see him two weeks before he killed— supposedly killed them.

“It just reads so clearly. He probably made a move, they felt uncomfortable so they stopped seeing him for tutoring, he couldn’t face rejection, so he killed them. It’s fucking sick.”

You roll your shoulders and look up at the ceiling. “Am I being too hasty? It just feels right, like … like these girls are cheering for me and telling me I’m right.”

The door shuts behind Hyunjin. He weighs his words carefully and walks up to his jacket, grabbing it off the back of the chair he sat in before. 

Those perfectly polished dress shoes click on the floor. It echoes off of each wall. 

“There’s one thing I’ve always lacked as a detective.” He folds the trench coat over his arm and walks up to you. “It makes me so mad that I don’t have this, it would help with so many of my cases.”

You watch him warily. There’s a sad smile on his face as he takes in your frazzled mood. 

You’ve never worn your heart this freely on your sleeve before. 

With a sigh, he reaches up and taps on your forehead. “Women’s intuition.”

For the first time, you have no response for him. 

As far as Hwang Hyunjin goes, this is the closest you’ve ever gotten to a compliment from him, or even an acknowledgment of your skill. 

Your lips stay sealed. 

“I’ve never not trusted your judgment. Ever. If your gut is saying this is the guy, then this is him. When have you ever been wrong?”

Your mind is reeling. 

Did he just compliment you again?

Heat rises to your cheeks. Your stomach flips. 

“I’ve always been so jealous of that. You just… know.” He shrugs and looks around, a small tinge of pink on his cheeks. “When the pieces finally fit into place you’re fucking brilliant at solving everything so fast. What’s that about?”

A sad laugh tumbles from his lips.

“This case would’ve taken any other team months to solve, but you and I did it in two weeks. Maybe we should work together more often, Y/N.”

There’s no way he said that. 

He’s jealous of you?

And did he just call you by your first name?

He stares down at you for a couple of seconds. Maybe you were imagining it, but you could swear that his eyes flickered to your lips more than once. 

“Come on then, we have an interrogation to do.”

Hyunjin turns on a heel and makes his way to the door. 

“Thank you,” you call after him. Hyunjin’s hand pauses on the door handle. “Thank you, Hyunjin.”

He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t acknowledge what you did— the favor you just returned. 

He doesn’t speak on the new level that your relationship just crossed nor the mutual respect that you two just shared. 

Nothing. 

You don’t even get to see his face when you call him by his name for the first time. 

But, by the way his shoulders square and his head twitches, you know it affected him. 

Wordlessly, he nods and opens the door, leaving it open for you as he walks into the hallway and towards the interrogation rooms. 

Hwang Hyunjin, the golden child of the police department, considers you to be on the same level as him. Who would’ve thought? 

Maybe he’s right, maybe you should work together more often. 

---------------------------------------

Hours and hours and hours have gone by. 

Hyunjin as well as other officers have been grilling Eric for what seems like days. But it’s only been about 18 hours. 

The bags under your eyes feel like bruises. 

Three empty coffee cups and one full one sit next to you as you stare through the one way glass. 

Hyunjin’s pacing around the room with his hands in his pockets. 

His tie is loose around his neck, the sleeves of his button up are rolled up, his hair is tied up out of his eyes. 

He’s been trying to go the good cop route for the last 3 hours. Slowly, that act has been dropping; Eric is getting on his last nerve. 

You both let Eric sit in the interrogation room by himself for 4 hours leading up to this to get to his head. It didn’t seem to work. You can only legally keep him here for forty-eight hours.

If anything, he’s only gotten more agitated. 

Hyunjin walks up behind Eric, he reaches one arm down to the table. 

“You’ve never seen any of these girls before?” Hyunjin slides a few photos towards them on the table. 

“No.” Eric answers quickly. “I’ve already told you that.”

“I just think it’s interesting you’ve never seen any of them, Mr. Rowan. You tutored them. All of them.”

“Do you realize how many students I tutor on a daily basis?”

Hyunjin barks a laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn't realize you were that popular.” He comes around the table and opens a file. 

Hyunjin pulls out one specific page, and reads off the top. “Actually, here we go, I know exactly how many students you tutor. Let’s see here: ‘Eric Rowan works two days a week in the tutoring center, Tuesdays and Thursdays.’ Last week you tutored 3 students total, and they were all returning students— how interesting!”

He slams the paper down onto the metal table. Eric jumps. 

“Only three returning faces to your tutoring session, Mr. Popular. And here’s the funniest thing;  I’ve noticed that there’s no women on this list. Weird.”

Eric’s eye twitches. 

Hyunjin takes a seat across the table, folding his hands on top of a notebook. 

“Have you ever had a girlfriend before, Mr. Rowan?”

Eric scoffs and shifts around in his seat. 

Your interest is piqued, you sit up straight in your chair and lean forward. 

Why did he get so nervous all of a sudden? 

Eric picks up the cup of water that he requested and takes a long sip from it. Hyunjin waits patiently. 

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to anything, Detective.”

Hyunjin laughs and opens the file. “See, I thought you would say that. My chief also asked the same question.”

Said Chief, who has been standing behind you for the better part of 5 hours, most certainly did not ask that. Chief Bang snorts quietly at the lie. 

“But you know what, we detectives have to do our due diligence.” Hyunjin opens a file and slides a large printed photo out across the table. “Recognize her?”

So many different emotions fly across Eric’s face: anger, loss, betrayal, depression, rage, hurt. The muscles in his face dance as they try to settle on an expression. 

“No,” he grits out. 

An obvious lie.

“Interesting.” Hyunjin pulls out another photo and slides it across. “Because just by taking a quick look at your social media profile, I can see how this girl was your girlfriend . Look, here you are together! Leah Miller. Pretty girl.”

Eric says nothing. He can’t look away from the picture. 

“Most interesting part I noticed was that you haven’t posted anything with her in about a year. What happened? Breakup? They suck, hm? Sorry, should I have said ‘ex-girlfriend’ before? My bad.”

You can’t help but smile. Hyunjin’s always been brilliant in interrogations, you can’t deny that. You’ve only ever heard rumors about how he is on the other side of the one-way mirror. 

Sneaking a peek at the picture of Leah Miller, your eyes widen. She fit the profile: long, blonde hair and sweet, light eyes.

More pieces fall into place. 

“It’s none of your business,” Eric grits out between clenched teeth. 

Chief Bang shifts behind you and grabs the back of your chair. Obviously he senses it too, a confession, a slip up, anything. It’s showing its head. 

“What? What are you saying?” Hyunjin laughs. “It’s exactly my business. That’s quite literally what my job is, you know, to know your business. It’s the same reason I know that you asked out Andrea Bowman during one of your tutoring sessions and she rejected you.”

“That’s not—“

“Oh, sorry, is that not how it happened? Did you maybe try and make a move on her and she rejected you that way? Maybe you put an arm around the back of her chair? Classic.”

“I-I didn’t—“

“Not that one? Understood.” Hyunjin nods and flips through the pictures on the table. “Oh, did you use the old ‘give me your number just in case you need more help’ trick? Used that on a girl in college, myself. Of course, it worked for me.” He winks at Eric.

Eric is fuming, his face is turning redder and redder, the vein in his forehead is popping. 

“Here we go,” Chief Bang whispers under his breath. 

Your mouth is agape, you’ve heard about Hyunjin in interrogation rooms before but you’ve never actually seen it. 

It’s like he’s dancing with fire so beautifully. He’s twirling a flaming sword with a silver tongue. 

“I think Andrea rejected you and then when she never came back for more tutoring, you lost it. You looked up her campus address in the internal systems, because guess what, you have access to that as a tutor, and you went to her dorm room, and you killed her.”

“Wh-What? You’re way off base here, Detective.” Eric stutters, his eye twitches again, his leg starts bouncing under the table. 

He pulls on the cuffs keeping him to the table. 

Hyunjin you’re so close, come on, come on. 

“Funny!” Hyunjin exclaims and slides another piece of paper across the table. “Here’s the search history in the library computer with your login credentials!”

Eric gapes, his mouth opens and closes several times.

“You know what, maybe you didn’t go to Andrea’s dorm with the idea of killing her. Maybe it was a grand romantic gesture, yeah, that seems more like it— flowers and everything.” He slams another picture on the table. 

A bouquet of flowers was found at Andrea’s crime scene. 

“You presented her with the flowers. And she rejected you. Again. ” Hyunjin’s voice is getting louder and louder, crescendoing with Eric’s anger and heart rate. 

Your breathing picks up. Both you and Chief Bang stop moving. 

“Stop,” Eric suddenly pleads. His hands shoot up to cover his ears but they’re stopped by the cuffs. 

The metal clinks and pulls, they dig into his wrists. 

“She rejected you twice! To your face! But you couldn’t take that for an answer. God, why did she do that? Why did she turn you down when you were just trying to be nice? ”

Hyunjin stands up slowly from the table, towering over Eric. 

“She was just like her, she was just like that bitch that broke up with you? She tore your heart out and spit on it! She was no better than Leah! So, you knocked her out and you tied her down to her own fucking bed in hopes that she would just hear you out!”

“Stop, stop!”

“Because maybe if she just listened she would understand that you’re just a genuine guy trying to be a good boyfriend to someone! You’re so nice, you’re such a good guy, no one likes good guys anymore, huh? And, of course Leah didn’t see that either!”

“ Stop! ”

“She tried to scream for help, so you killed her. You slit her throat without a second fucking thought for anything! And it felt so fucking good, didnt it? It felt so good to finally take power back from her? So, you didn’t stop.”

Tears spring from Eric’s eyes as he squints them shut, his body physically curling in on itself. He writhes around, unable to get far because of the handcuffs. 

“So you kept going, and you went after women who looked just like Leah. And it felt amazing because every single time you could picture her face as you slit their throats. Each and every one of them babbling for mercy, crying out for their mothers, to only choke on their own blood—“

“ FINE! ” Eric screams, slamming his fists on the table. “I killed them. I killed each and every one of the fucking bitches. And I fucking wish I could have killed her too!”

The sudden seemingly endless torrent of sentences comes to a screaming halt. 

Hyunjin sits down on his chair once more with a huff. 

And just like you did yesterday, he leans back on his chair and knocks once on the window. 

It takes you a second to find your voice after witnessing the most amazing, jaw dropping interrogation you’ve ever seen. 

“G-Got it!” You say loudly through the glass. “We got it. Oh my god!” You stand up quickly from the chair and turn around to Chief Bang, who has an equally surprised expression. “We got it! ”

He stutters for a moment and shakes his head to clear his mind before speed walking out of the side room to get officers to arrest Eric. 

Eric Rowan, who is now pathetically sobbing in his chair. 

Eric Rowan who signed his confession with the opposite hand that he’d been using to drink his water. 

Eric Rowan who is ambidextrous.

---------------------------------------

It’s so weird to see your kitchen island devoid of files and endless stacks of papers after the last few weeks. 

Eric was taken in for booking. Your job was over. 

Well, it was over for now. Chief Bang gave you and Hyunjin a week off and then you’re due back in the office for the next case. 

Plus, you’ll have to be at Eric Rowan’s trial since you were the lead detective on the case. 

So maybe ‘over’ isn’t the best way to describe it. 

More soft music plays from your speaker as you clean up the rest of the files. A large t-shirt draped over your body, it practically covers the shorts you have underneath. 

There’s a couple knocks on your door. His knocks are so distinct. You’ve gotten so used to them over the past two weeks. 

“Come in, Hwang!” you call out. 

The door opens and shuts. 

“I think I left a few things here,” he says kicking his shoes off in your entryway.

You hum in response, gathering up files to stack them neatly. 

His soft footsteps pad up behind you. 

“I don’t think I ever saw your countertop, is this granite?” he teases over your shoulder. 

You snort a laugh. “Yeah, it is. Came with the place, so don’t ask any more questions.”

Putting the stack down, you turn around and come nose to nose with Hyunjin. He is so much closer than you thought he was. 

You jump slightly and back up a bit, your hips hitting the countertop. 

Hyunjin doesn’t move. 

“I didn’t get to see you after the interrogation,” he says with a quieter voice. 

Not able to hold his searing gaze, you look off to the side and cross your arms over your chest. 

“Yeah, well, you know how the hustle and bustle can wrap someone up after a case closes. Next thing I knew, Bang was sending me home.”

Hyunjin takes a half step closer to you. “What did you think?”

“Hm?”

“What did you think of the interrogation?”

So many sarcastic, sharp retorts die on your tongue when you remember the conversation that the two of you had earlier. 

But still, complimenting him was about as easy as petting a cactus. 

“I told you I’m not going to stroke your ego, Hwang.”

He takes another step towards you, both of his arms come up to cage you to the counter. 

Heat rises on your cheeks more and more with each passing second. You refuse to meet his eyeline. 

“Humor me, L/N. How was my performance today?”

Tonguing your cheek, you roll your eyes. Your heart rate picks up at his proximity. Why does he smell so good?

The last time the both of you had an opportunity to shower was two days ago. 

He still smells like aftershave and expensive cologne. 

“It was good, okay? You got the guy.”

“ We got the guy, L/N.”

“Yeah, yeah, golden boy, we got him.”

He knows your sarcasm is empty. Just by looking at your flushed face he can tell you don’t mean it. 

“Come on now, L/N.” Long, lithe fingers grip your chin and turn your head towards him. “You can do better than that.”

Your jaw clenches. Arousal shoots down your spine like an electric shock. 

Fuck. 

Closer and closer his alarmingly handsome face inches closer to yours. The beauty mark under his eye seems more prominent than ever. 

His mind is one of a brilliant detective, but god, that face. He should’ve been a model. 

You bite the inside of your cheek and when you try to look away from his deep eyes, the grin on your jaw tightens. 

“Come on, L/N.” He smirks. “Tell me how good I did today. Say it.”

The brat inside you decides to surface. So, he wants to go this route, hm? “Why do you need me to say it so badly, Hwang? Everyone else in the department is so far up your ass, they can wear you like a hat.”

He rolls his eyes, his body pressing against you entirely. Your arms uncross and you reach back to grip the countertop next to his hands. 

It shouldn’t feel as good as it does. You should be shoving him away, slapping him across the face, spitting on his shoes. But instead you relish in the feeling. 

“Yes. But they’re not you. ”

Your eyes widen and the corner of his mouth twitches. He knows he has you in the palm of his hand. He just needs to break you more. 

But does he really?

Finally, he brings his lips closer and closer to yours. He pauses right before he makes contact, giving you a chance to say no. 

Nothing of the sort tumbles out. 

The first kiss he presses to your lips is nothing short of devouring. 

His soft, plush lips consume yours like he’s a starving man at a feast. You meet his enthusiasm with fervor.

Hyunjin’s head tilts to get better access to your mouth. His eyebrows pull together in concentration, he almost looks like he’s in pain. 

The fingers on your chin move down to your neck, he wraps his hand around it, thumbs on top of your pulse point, but he doesn’t squeeze. 

Your hands tentatively reach for him, grabbing at his dress shirt and tie, pulling him even closer to you. 

A small moan comes from the base of his throat and through his nose. Hyunjin’s other hand grabs your hip possessively. 

“Say it, L/N,” he hushes between kisses, completely out of breath. “Tell me how good I am.”

How is it that he has this sort of possessive grip on you and yet he’s putting the ball in your court?

A small boost of confidence courses through your veins. 

“Can’t you just admit it already?” he adds.

Smirking, you say nothing. One of your hands threads into his long hair and yanks his face back to yours for another bruising kiss. 

He huffs through his nose once more, but kisses you nonetheless. 

Twirl after twirl of his tie around your hand tightens your grip. With the last tug, Hyunjin moans once more into your mouth. The hand on your throat squeezes a bit.

“L/N,” he pleads again against your lips. 

You tug hard on his tie. Hyunjin loses his balance slightly, his knuckles turning white from grabbing your countertop so tight. 

Bringing your lips to his ear, you blow hot air on the sensitive skin first. He shivers against your hot body. 

At the same time, your bare foot travels up the back of his clothed calf, your thigh brushing against his hip.

“If you want my approval that badly, you’re going to have to earn it.”

Hyunjin makes a choked moan, “Fuck,” he whispers under his breath. The hand on your hip tightens. The fingers wrapped around your throat twitch. 

“How does that sound, Hwang? You be good to me and I’ll let you know how well you’re doing.” You roll your hips against his.

Your words have an obvious effect on him, the hardness that presses to your leg says it all. 

Hyunjins lips drop down to your neck, he bites the soft skin where it meets your shoulder. “Fucking hell, L/N, don’t play hard to get.” 

Humming, you roll your head back, enjoying the sensation of his mouth on your skin. “I’m not playing anything, I already told you how to get what you want.”

Licking and sucking his way down your neck, his teeth nip at your exposed collarbone. The hand on your throat slides backwards and into the hair on the back of your head. 

Your bottom lip pulls between your teeth to stop a moan from leaking out. You pull Hyunjin’s tie to keep his face there.

“Just like that, golden boy, your mouth feels so good.”

His hips involuntarily buck into yours at the praise, he whimpers against your skin. “ Shit, ” he curses into your neck with a hot exhale. 

You wrap your entire leg around his waist and roll against him more. His mouth stutters, but afterwards he sucks hard . A bright purple hickey already surfaces when he detaches. 

“L/N,” he murmurs into your neck. You hum in response. “Can I take this off?” He tugs at your shirt.

You smirk. “You can.”

When your hand unwinds from his tie, Hyunjin backs off of you. His face is already so fucked out; eyes are half-lidded and hazy, his lips are so puffy and swollen, spit glistening off them in the soft kitchen light. 

From all your pulling, Hyunjin’s hair is all askew and coming out of its usual ponytail.

He wastes no time, grabbing the hem of your t-shirt and yanking it over your head, he throws it behind him carelessly. His eyes light up at the sight of your bare chest, tongue poking out to lick his already slick lips.

You chuckle.

“You gunna touch me or what?” you tease. “Or maybe you don’t want it that badly.”

Hyunjin’s jaw clenches and he meets your eyes. The look he’s giving you is dangerous.

He huffs once and grabs your waist tightly, lifting you up off the ground and sitting you on the cold granite. The sharp temperature change against your flushed skin makes you shiver. 

Hyunjin parts your legs and stands between your thighs, his head dips down and envelopes one nipple in his mouth.

“Fuck!” you cry out, grabbing a fist full of his hair.

One of Hyunjin’s hands trails up your leg to grab at your exposed thigh while the other comes up to play with your other perky bud.

His eyes shut in his own pleasure. That tongue is absolutely relentless, licking circles around your nipple to flick over it a few times and then sucking.

Your toes are already curling, legs wrapping around his waist to get him closer to you.

“How about now, L/N?” his hoarse voice whines against your spit covered chest. “Is this good for you? Does it feel good?”

The more he talks, the more you can’t tell if he’s teasing you or genuinely asking for his own sanity. 

“It feels fucking amazing, Hwang, keep– shit – keep going.”

Hyunjin takes in a shaky breath and switches sides, your fingers yank on his hair and he whines again around your nipple. 

You let him continue for a while, relishing in the feeling of his spit dripping down your chest and onto your navel. The wet licks and sucks bouncing off the walls combined with his own small whines and your loud moans. 

Roll after roll of your hips grinds against his hard tent in his dress pants. After a few minutes, your hips seem to have a mind of their own, your soaking wet cunt seeking friction against anything to satiate the need for contact. 

The more he licks at your chest, the more Hwang Hyunjin continues to drive you insane. 

“H-Hwang,” you pull his attention. His eyebrows furrow as you yank him away from your purple marked chest. 

When he finally detaches, he looks up at you, panting. 

“Touch me, touch me, please . I can’t fucking take it.”

His shoulders curl forward like you knocked the air out of him. 

With more strength than you thought he had, he scoops you up and wraps your legs around his waist while smashing your lips together again. 

You cling onto him for dear life while letting your tongues slide over one another. 

“Hah,” you pant out in between kisses. “You’re doing so fucking well.”

He whines.

“Could’ve made me cum with just that tongue on my tits. Such a shame.”

Hyunjin drops your body onto the couch without a warning. You squeal and bounce on the soft cushions. 

“Hwang–” your voice dies in your throat when you catch the sight of him standing on the other side of the sofa arm. 

The change in his demeanor gives you whiplash. 

His eyes are dark, almost black. His chest is heaving with heavy pants. Those long fingers are tugging at his tie, until it's loose enough for him to rip off his neck. 

Your knees tuck up a bit towards your chest as you watch him with wide eyes like prey. 

Hyunjin reaches down and snatches your ankle, he tugs on it harshly. You yelp as you’re dragged forward into a lying position.

Coming around the sofa, he swings one knee over you to straddle your hips. One by one he begins to unbutton his dress shirt, never once breaking eye contact.

Each sliver of skin that is revealed is devoured by your eyes greedily. Never once has he so much as undone the top button on his collar at work.

Shamelessly, you rake in his athletic build. 

“You want to cum with just my tongue? Okay, L/N, I can do that.”

Your heart thuds in your chest. 

He shrugs his shirt off and drops it to the floor. Hands grab at the waistband of your shorts and yank them off with your panties in one swoop. Another article of clothing to hit the floor.

The cold air against your soaking wet folds makes you hiss slightly. 

Hyunjin stares down at your arousal, biting his bottom lip. Lower and lower he descends until you can feel his heavy exhales against your cunt.

He pushes your thighs apart, putting one over his shoulder, your heel settles into the dip of his spine. He’s smirking the entire time.

Finally, he tears his eyes away from your folds to look you right in the eye.

Your jaw clenches and you watch as he licks all the way from your entrance, up to your clit, circles around it to go back down to your entrance again.

An immediate shockwave of pleasure shoots through your body down to your toes. You toss your head back with your mouth agape, a silent scream stretching your lips.

Hyunjin keens at your reaction, doing the same maneuver again before focusing his attention on creating the most sinful figure eights with his tongue.

Your hand flies down to grab at his hair, shoulders arching off the couch. “Shit, shit, H-Hwang, feels so– hah – s-so good.”

He moans into you, the vibrations go right through you. 

With your heel on his back, you can feel how his back curves as his hips rut into the couch underneath him to relieve some pressure off his aching cock. 

Praises fall from your lips like water falling over rock. Each one makes Hyunjin whine and kick it up a notch. 

“That fu- uh -cking silver tongue, holy shit .”

Hyunjin moans loudly, he grabs both of your hips, nails digging into your skin with deep scratches. It only makes you cry out louder, pulling on his hair even harder. 

The tie in his hair comes out completely. You toss it away from you and gather up his hair in between your fingers to keep it out of his eyes. It feels like silk.

A coil within you begins winding tighter and tighter. The more he licks and sucks, the higher your cries get and the tighter your abdomen feels.

“Feels so good, it feels fucking amazing ! S-So close! Shit, please make me cum, please, shit!”

Each word makes Hyunjin sutter and moan into your folds, his eyebrows pulled like he’s in pain. Harder and harder he ruts into your sofa, his nails digging into you so much you think he might draw blood.

It’s taking every ounce of his will not to spill out in his pants at your praise. At your begging .

One of his hands comes up and kneads at your chest. His thumb rubs over your nipple a few times and that’s all it takes for the band within you to finally snap.

Your orgasm washes over you so hard it’s like being hit by a bus. 

With a silent cry, your entire body tenses up. Hyunjin’s movements slow down, but he still coaxes you through your climax with that skilled tongue of his. 

He hums into your folds, licking up every last drop of your juices.

You come down from your high slowly, chest heaving up and down, every exhale is paired with a moan. Shockwaves still ripple through your thighs.

Hyunjin’s eyes open and he stares at you, his mouth going over to bite your inner thigh. You squeal and squirm.

Slowly, like a lion, he gets up and crawls over your form, keeping eye contact. Once he’s close enough, he captures your lips greedily. Your arousal is still all over his tongue. It’s swapped between the two of you with your spit. 

Your hands reach down and fumble with his belt buckle. Hyunjin makes no move to stop you, instead, he pushes you further.

“Look at that,” he pants, looking down at your fumbling hands. “So desperate for my cock, huh, L/N?”

Your eyebrow twitches. You undo the buckle and reach down to grab his rock hard erection through his pants.

Hyunjin’s elbows buckle at your touch and he grunts, squinting his eyes shut.

“All talk, aren’t you? Once I touch you, you crumble .”

“Shit!” His eyes snap open and he bucks into your hand. “Because– ugh –, like I said, it’s you . Fuck ,” he moans when you squeeze him again over his pants.

“Keep going,” you tease. “Keep going and I’ll keep stroking this fucking monster cock you keep tucked in these pressed dress pants of yours.”

He exhales shakily while you unbutton his trousers. 

“When were you ever going to fucking– agh – realize that you drive me fucking insane, L/N?” His eyes start to unfocus when you push down the waistband of his pants and boxers down his thighs.

Fucking hell . Has he always been packing this?

“God damn, Hwang.” Your hand runs up his length. Hyunjin shudders and closes his eyes. Your touch is so featherlight he thinks he’s going insane. 

His eyebrows twitch and hips buck forward to try and reach your touch. 

“I’m not hearing a lot of talking.” You lean up and attach your lips to his neck, continuing to only trail the gentlest of touches up and down his throbbing cock. 

The head is red and angry and weeping precum.

His body trembles. “ Shit – I wanted you for so long, L/N. You drive me– fuck – insane. Every single fucking day I did whatever it fucking took to get your attention.”

Finally, your hand wraps around his length tightly and you start pumping very slowly. The long, pathetic moan that tumbles from Hyunjin’s lips is something of sin.

He sounds so relieved yet even more aroused at the same time. 

You continue to suck your own marks onto his perfect skin. Sweat drips down the side of his face and down his now slick back. 

“ Ughhh – L-L/N…” He buries his face in the crook of your neck. 

Your hand stops moving when he stops talking.

He cries out into your neck, hips frantically bucking into your touch to chase it. You only chuckle in response. 

“ Please! ” He whimpers. 

“Keep going then, golden boy.” You suck a sensitive spot underneath his ear. 

Another stutter of his hips.

“I begged the chief to put me on your case!”

Your pumping picks up speed again, his entire body rolls into yours. You grip him tighter and jerk him faster.

“I said– ah – I would do whatever case he wanted next if he– ffuuck – let me work with you on this one– oh my god! And I still would, I would do whatever– mmmph – case I need to to fucking work with you every day. Agh! ”

Despite your outwards nonchalant expression, on the inside, his words are fucking killing you. The throb in your cunt that was satiated moments ago comes back with a vengeance. 

To hear Hwang Hyunjin at your mercy is going straight to your core. Each noise he makes goes straight to your pussy.

“God, fuck , L/N, I-I’m close. Please, god , shit.”

After a few more pumps, you stop, taking your hand away completely. Hyunjin cries into the crook of your neck again, his body rolling and rutting the air at the loss of contact. 

“Please, why, fucking hell , I was so close!”

You grab the hair on the back of his head and yank his head up to look down at you. His eyes are cloudy, ears and cheeks bright red. Sweat drips down the side of his face and over his sharp cheekbones and jawline.

“Wouldn’t you rather fuck me?”

His face twists up with another moan. 

Hyunjin dives down and captures your lips in the sloppiest kiss of the night. He’s messy and desperate the longer he kisses you. 

While trying to stay attached to your lips, Hyunjin fumbles around to kick off his pants and boxers.

Both of you finally naked together, he grabs his cock in his fist.

“I-I’m not going to last–”

You cut him off with a sharp tug to his hair. “Fuck me, golden boy, don’t you think you deserve it after today?”

His eyes practically roll back in his head.

As soon as he’s lined up with your entrance, Hyunjin slides into you slowly. Inch by inch you’re stretched open,

He might not be thick but god, he is long .

With his mouth on yours, he swallows each moan and cry of pleasure. Without wasting any amount of time, he pulls out to slam back into you.

Both of you moan out together.

Your arm wraps around his neck. He rests his weight on one elbow and the other wraps around your shoulders to hug you close to him. His hand splays out between your shoulder blades to keep you anchored against his sweat slicked chest.

The skin to skin contact sends both of you wild.

Over and over again his hips undulate to thrust into you in the most delicious way. The angle of his hips brushes his pelvic bone against your clit with each slam against you. 

“You feel so fucking good,” you whine into his ear.

Hyunjin’s next thrust hits a bit harder. If praise makes him fuck you harder, then so be it.

“God, your cock is amazing.” Harder. “Hitting me just right.” Harder. “Never knew you would feel this fucking good.”

With his mouth on your neck, he leaves sloppy hickeys wherever he can reach. His pants fill the room and mix with your whines.

His head suddenly dips down to take your nipple into his mouth once more. You keen and toss your head back, hips canting up. The new angle has his cock slam right into your g-spot.

A loud scream tears from your lips. Hyunjin immediately picks up on this and picks up the pace, making sure he hits that spot every time.

If you thought your first orgasm had a sudden build up, it’s nothing compared to this one. There’s a sudden pressure increasing in your lower stomach.

“Fuck!” Thrust . “So good!” Thrust. “Oh my god!” 

Praises and noises fall from you, you don’t even realize what you’re saying anymore. The pleasure has your mind in the clouds.

“Y/N,” the sudden use of your name grabs your attention. Hyunjin comes up over your face with a pleasure twisted face. 

“Say it, please, please , I’m fucking begging you , please, say it.” 

Your eyebrows pull together, mouth still hanging open. What does he want you to say that you haven’t said already?

“ My name. Say it, please, please, please, please–”

Oh, fuck.

You smirk and watch as the desperation drives him wild. Even in the deepest throes of pleasure, you string him along for a few more seconds as you approach the edge.

Closer and closer you come to the edge.

He whines, begging louder and louder as his own climax creeps up on him, the muscles in his body tightening more and more. 

He needs it so bad. 

“Y/N! Please! ”

Just as you’re about to tumble over, your mouth stretches open.

“Fuck, Hyunjin! ”

The loudest moan you’ve ever heard from a man comes falling out of his mouth as he buries his face into your neck. Hot, sticky warmth shoots within you in long, drawn out spurts that match with Hyunjin’s whines and groans. 

His hips stutter for another twenty seconds before his moans finally calm down. 

Both of you hold onto each other tightly, heaving heavy inhales and exhales to catch your breath.

Absent-mindedly, your hand begins to rub up and down Hyunjin’s clammy back, drawing small circles and lines onto his skin.

He hums into your neck and holds you closer for a moment before collapsing onto the couch on top of you.

Surprisingly, his weight on top of you doesn’t seem to phase you; instead it brings the same comfort as a weighted blanket.

After a few more minutes of you silently rubbing his back, Hyunjin begins to lazily press kisses onto your bruise covered chest, paying extra attention to your collarbones. 

The kisses are soft and sweet, nothing like the lust coated ones from before. 

“Did you mean it?” you ask him quietly.

He pauses his kisses only to answer you. “Mean what?” He starts kissing you more.

“That you asked Bang to work on the case.”

He chuckles against your neck, his hair tickling your skin. “Oh, yeah. It took entirely too much convincing.”

You laugh with him and keep him close to your body.

In the back of your mind, you know you should get up, that he should pull out and the two of you should shower and drink water, but you can’t seem to distance yourself from him.

There’s no harm in sitting there for a while anyway.

Hyunjin hums into your neck again, “Thank god we have the week off.”

You couldn’t agree more.

[alexiswritingstuff]

Everyone can heal.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Gn!reader

Summary: Logan falls asleep in the day room at Xavier's school, you accidently startle him awake and end up getting hurt.

Genre: hurt/comfort.

Warnings: mentions of blood, and descriptions of wounds, mentions of nightmares.

This is the first time that I am writing in a while, so I hope this isn't just straight up terrible.

A/n: this if my first fic for Logan, so like I usually say when writing for a new character, I may not have portrayed him in an accurate way. There might be parts that seem out of character and such, so please keep that in mind while reading!

Anyway, I've watched the X-men movies since I was a kid. And after watching the new Deadpool and Wolverine movie I was put right back at square one. So, here you go!

I hope you enjoy!!

Logan masterlist.

It had been a long few days.

It was one of the first weeks that you had actually tried to be a professor. Of some sort.

Now, generally, you weren't exactly the kind of person that worked well with kids. It was a lack of experience on your end, as you hadn't gotten the chance to grow up with much others.

But you wanted to learn. Or... did.

The main fault was that you had forgotten to weigh your personal life, more so the things you needed, alongside being a professor in a school.

See, there were a few things that you didn't know about your abilities beforehand. Charles managed to bring some to light, and in turn, you had to figure out how to use them: Incorporate them into your training, into your fighting skills.

It was a lot to relearn. And you misjudged just how much it was going take it out of you.

Though, you didn't seem to be the only one.

Logan was practically in the same boat. Maybe even a little worse. I mean, he was good with kids, but working with them was different, especially when it's a whole group of them at a time. He even bailed on his own classes once. Or twice... could’ve been more.

But you couldn't exactly blame him.

This was the man that barely stayed a week anyway. He was always leaving, whether it was for a bar or something else, you didn't know unless you went with him.

He wasn't used to it yet. The change of being alone, pretty much all the time, to suddenly being surrounded by a boat load of people 24/7. It was understandable. Especially to you, which is probably why you had got to know him so well.

It was the end of the day. The sun was tucked far beneath the horizon, blanketing your part of the earth in a complete darkness. Minus the slight light pollution.

The hallways of the schools were empty at this time, each kid, hopefully, getting a good night's sleep for the next day of learning. But you could never be sure when it came to the teenagers.

It meant that there were less things in the surrounding area for the sound of your footsteps to bounce off. And that, combined with the size of the archways themselves, allowed the echoes to ring a lot longer than needed. 

You were on your way back to the day room, having made a quick stop by the kitchen to get more sodas in order to soothe the joint annoyance of having a lack of beer. 

It was where the two of you usually set up for quiet moments like these. There wasn't really anywhere else to go, unless you wanted to be stuck in an empty classroom, or have to sit on a freezing bench. And neither of you had an interest in being near a bed.

The most important factor about the day room, however, was that it had a TV. Which just so happened to be the first thing you heard after passing through the final corridor.

It was distant, set at a cautious volume. It must've been one of those talk shows, or maybe some kind of sitcom, as a chorus of laughter would erupt after almost every sentence said.

Either way, it didn't really matter. It had only been put on for background noise. A sound that would carry the silence whenever the two of you had stopped talking, unsure of what to bring up next.

Though, it seemed it had worked a little too well.

The last time you got a look at Logan, he had resumed his usual position. He was upright, back pressed firmly into the sofa as if he were trying to meld with it, and leant against the palm of his hand that had his elbow digging into the armrest.

Your feet halted in a matter of seconds of turning into that doorway. Your tongue was curled in your mouth, lips parted and remaining so, as your eyes had landed back on the man.

He was lying in the opposite direction. His body was sprawled across the length of the couch, though his feet were cursed to hang loosely over the edge. His muscles looked tense, regardless of the usual relief that sort of position was supposed to give a person. But that wasn't the interesting part.

His eyes were closed.

At this point the condensation on the bottles had begun to grow into little drops of water, joining together, one by one, before leaking onto your skin.

Your steps were slow, testing each of the floorboards beneath your shoes to avoid the ones that creaked like an old door.

Logan wasn't a person who got tired easily. It was part of his mutation, that of which you had learned very quickly, but apparently it had manifested into thinking that he couldn't even feel it at all. I guess you were wrong.

Though, in his defence, he may not have even meant to fall asleep when he closed his eyes.

Eventually, you had made it to the edge of the couch. There was a side table on each end of it, the safest and the closest option regardless of the fact his shoed feet were almost right above it.

You took one of the bottles in your free hand, making sure that your grip was just right, before beginning the descent to the table.

You held your breath, narrowed gaze flickering consistently from the eventual destination to the sleeping man. The concentration had even caused your tongue to poke through your teeth as you took about a step closer--

And then bam.

Right as the bottom of the bottle had touched down on the wood, this sudden guttural sound rippled through the air. It had you stumbling backwards, gaping in the direction of the continued noise that sounded like fear itself.

In front of you, now, was not the same sleeping man. In fact, this man was sat up, though almost hunched over most of his body. His arms were raised, aimed straight ahead, and that happened to be right at you.

“Whoa-- hey!”

He was heaving. Each breath taken almost shook his entire body. And the noises... They were almost like growls.

They were so deep and harsh as they pushed out of his throat one after the other, but his inhales were somehow even worse. It was like all the air in the room had suddenly dissipated.

It wasn't until you heard the seams of the couch starting to rip that you realised his claws were even out, the ends just about digging into the pillows beside him.

“Logan, hey, it's me, okay? Look,” you attempted to call, trying to lower your head so that he could properly meet your eyes, “Look, it's me!” And then he did. He saw you, even if It took a moment for it to actually kick in. 

He was still heaving, his gaze was fierce and his eyebrows never eased. He had even slightly choked on a breath on its way out.

But you saw the way he had slightly leaned back. There was a relief within the swirl of other emotions.

Until his gaze lowered.

Now, at some point in the past few minutes, the other bottle in your hand had been discarded. It most likely hit the edge of your shoe, sending it to roll off into some corner of the room where it would be forgotten about until morning... But it hadn't smashed.

So, why did something sound like it was dripping?

“Y/n.”

By the time your eyebrows had furrowed in confusion, Logan had hurriedly shoved himself up from the couch, his claws shrinking back between his knuckles within seconds. “Shit.”

You were lost. The sudden switch in atmosphere had you just standing there, fixated on the man that was moving towards you with this look on his face. Similar to one of guilt.

“Logan?” You had barely gotten the name out before you suddenly felt a hand on your arm. Your head snapped in its direction, lips parting so that you could ask what the hell was going on. And then he slightly tilted your arm.

There was your answer. “Oh.”

Three marks. There were three lines etched diagonally into your arm, one deep enough that it led the pooling blood to trickle down your skin. How did you not feel that?

“Fuck,” Logan's hand was careful. His fingers were light and gentle as they grazed the side of your arm. Hesitant. His breaths were getting louder again. “I'm…”

“I'm sorry,” he attempted, his voice barely escaping as a whisper, “I'm so sorry.”

His eyebrows were more furrowed than they were before. The rest of his face was sort of scrunched up too, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Or he was disgusted by it.

“Logan,” You tried placing your hand on his closest wrist, but he immediately retracted. He let go of your arm, “Hey, look, I'm fine, okay?” you started louder, more insistent, “It doesn't hurt.”

Logan shook his head for a moment. He took a slight step backwards, his stance heavy. His eyes never moved. “I'm sorry.”

He grunted, the frown taking over his lips deepening for just a moment before his torso twisted. He grabbed the neck of the successfully placed soda, and then just walked around you.

“No, wait,” You tried to reach out, wanting to grasp his arm or even the fabric of his top, but he swerved, completely avoiding you, “Logan?”

You couldn't even make another attempt as if your other hand was away for longer, more blood would end up dripping on the floor. So, your body turned, desperate eyes following the man in a way that was more of a plea than anything else.

But he never looked back. He continued walking through the doorway, rubbing hard against his temples with a final grunt before disappearing behind the wall.

~~~

The time, at this point, was unclear. The clocks in this school were usually around the learning areas, mostly in the classrooms, which created a sort of guessing game anywhere else.

It was apparent, however, that the sun had just begun to rise. Peeking over the horizon enough so that a bright mist seeped into most of the corridors.

You found yourself back in the hallways. There wasn't a very clear reason as to why than this inability to sit. A failure to be still for seconds at a time, regardless of the tiredness that had started to cling to your skin.

But that was the last thing on your mind.

You kept thinking about it; the previous encounter. It was sort of plaguing your mind, more so how you handled it.

Granted, it was in fact your first time having to deal with a situation like that, and usually you were on the other side. Though this seemed different, like something had just been exposed.

You were aware of the fact that Logan had nightmares. I mean, it was one of the most believable things about him, considering the things he'd gone through. The extent, however, was undetermined.

Until today.

A huff of air sifted through your lips as you attempted to straighten your spine, stretch the accompanying muscles that had grown tense over the past few hours.

The aimless walking was almost nice. The surroundings were mostly quiet, excluding the wind that whistled against the glass of the windows, having picked up some time earlier.

It was that time of year again. The group of months where the weather grew cold and the plants began to change. It almost made the school feel cosy even if there was no heating in the hallways.

In fact, where you were now was the coldest, and it wasn't until you looked up properly that you realised you were about to walk into a dead-end.

Slowly, your feet came to a stop, your lazy eyes blinking hastily in the blaring yellow light, which was starting to mix into this sort of orange.

Your shoulders lowered, a sense of relief filtering through your system as the decision had been final. You were going to go to your room, maybe even get to lay down for a few hours until it was time to teach.

So, you turned on your heel, taking about a step in the other direction as your blurry eyes attempted to focus on the closest doorway, until you could note the surroundings. It was the kitchen.

Now, that door was always open, usually swung all the way back and held by a stopper. But a light was on. Allowing you to properly get a view of the room and what was in it.

More so who.

Your movements had halted right as you were about to take another step.

Logan.

He was sitting at the narrow table at the back, set between the array of windows. His elbows were against the surface of it, one of his hands clasped around a bottle he had just set down. He swallowed, and so did you.

There was an initial pause, seconds taken to calculate the right decision, before you went in. Your lips parted, ready to release the script you had gone over in your head for the last hour--

“I didn't mean to hurt you.”

Instead, you were frozen. The volume of his voice, and the angle he sat at, almost made it seem like the words didn't even come from him. He probably heard you before you had even come down the hall.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Logan–” you tried, but his mouth opened before you could even finish, “Just let me talk,” He hadn't moved. He was in the same position, still holding the bottle, and staring straight forward like there was someone there across from him. “Okay?”

You brought your lips together, placing a hand on the kitchen island to distribute your weight. Logan took the silence as acceptance and he cleared his throat. “I'm sure you already know,” he had begun, sparing the slightest glance your way for confirmation that didn't even need, “about the... nightmares.”

It was as if something in his mouth went sour when he said it, like the words itself tasted bad.

“Some are about the past, you know-- bits and pieces of it, anyway, but…” Logan paused for a moment, both verbally and physically. It only held for a few seconds. And then he sighed. “There are other ones too- Ones... ones where people get hurt, and, I'm…”

“I'm the one doing it.” It was a slow movement, an action that looked like it had to be forced, as Logan suddenly began turning in his seat. He met your eyes with a look that had your eyebrows furrowing all over again, “I'm the one hurting people.”

“Y/n, I'm sorry.”

“Logan,” you started, shaking your head in disagreement with the apology, but he only repeated it. “I'm so sorry.”

You made your way to the edge of the island, pace slowing once round the corner, “Hey,” Logan's gaze had shifted as you moved. It was lower, directed at a specific point. He was looking at your arm.

It had been engulfed by a layer of, hopefully, the appropriate bandaging. An attempt at following the tips Jean had given you from previous injuries.

But it being covered somehow made it seem worse than it was.

“Hey, look at me,” you called, stopping at a good place where you were actually in front of him, yet still a good distance away so he wouldn’t want to back off. “Look at me.” 

The next words only left your lips when he had finally decided to comply. “I'm fine.” you assured, the tone of your voice much lighter than before. But that made the look on Logan's face shift, “I hurt you.”

“It was an accident,” Your response was quick, your voice making it sound so simple. Like the sentence said should’ve been accompanied by a shrug of the shoulders. Logan didn't like that, “Accident or not, I still hurt you, Y/n.” His tone was riddled with this disbelief, as if he couldn't believe that he had to tell you that in the first place.

“And, I'm still here, Logan.”

You didn't understand it. The two of you had trained together many times, each round ending with either one receiving a new injury until your skills developed. Hell, you had been in battle together.

A little scratch was nothing. “It was a mistake-- my mistake. I'm the one who startled you, shit like this happens.” you tried to assure. Logan scoffed immediately, “What-- Does that make it magically okay for me to hurt people?”

“No!” you huffed out, the ability to contain your annoyance dwindling the more he challenged your statements. “No, okay? But-- You know, what-- Look.”

You took a few more steps, the care for all of the previous caution going completely out the window as you grasped an end of the bandaging, and unwinded the material before pulling back the padding beneath.

“See?”

Logan almost looked like he had buffered for a few seconds. He blinked, and then again, and then twice really fast, as if it would change what was in front of him. His hand had even flexed, like he wanted to reach it out, though it remained on the table.

They were gone. Each mark, each line that was carved into the skin had completely gone. Disappeared without a trace. There wasn't even a scar.

“You…” He spoke slowly, his eyes trailing up the length of your arm to your shoulders. And then your face. “You can regenerate?”

“Granted, a little... Well, a lot slower than you-- But, yeah.” you confirmed, wrapping the bandage up in your hands before placing it on the kitchen aisle behind you.

Logan leaned back slightly in a way that straightened his up spine. He brought his legs from under the table and set them in the direction the rest of his body was facing. He had turned right towards you.

“Are you serious?” The complete deadpan had you staring right back at him. You couldn't read the expression, nor the stance. You didn't even know what to call it. “Yep.” You blinked. Logan didn't move a muscle, “You can heal.” 

Now, you could hear it in his voice. It wasn't just a statement, a form of repetition to clarify the new information. He was getting mad.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “I... I don't really know what else you want me to say.” Which was the truth, the whole healing thing was one of the things you had discovered with Charles. 

It's an entirely different process than it is for most anyway, let alone when it comes to Logan. At the moment you actually had to activate the process for anything to heal. But you were working on it.

I guess it just slipped your mind.

“So, you were just willingly acting like a damn damsel?” The lines around his eyebrows deepened the way they usually did when he was getting angry. And they weren't stopping.

“A damsel?” you repeated, even tilting your head as a wordless question, and he just nodded. “You stood there. You just stood there until I came to you-- You didn't even try to stop the bleeding. Hell, did you even notice?”

That look on his face never changed. You hated it. The way it darkened his eyes, or tensed the surrounding muscles. The most bothersome thing, however, was the fact that it was aimed at you. “No,” you started, this time with a deeper voice. “No, I didn't-- You know, why?”

“Why?” Logan commanded, the veins around his neck becoming apparent. It was as if he was trying to win an argument, get the upper hand and serve some kind of justice, like you had done something wrong.

He was supposed to be relieved.

“Maybe, it's because that was the last thing I cared about, Logan!”

The two of you were just staring at each other. At this point, both of you were almost heaving, the past few minutes taking the air out of both pair of lungs.

The expression on Logan's face twitched for a moment, a crack in the anger that usually wasn't breakable. His posture had become more of a slouch as he suddenly decided to lean back a little, like before.

You watched with curious eyes when he then sighed, breaking the held gaze to grab his bottle of soda and bring it to his lips.

It all resembled a puzzle. A constant attempt to find the right piece, the right thought, that would fit it all together. But there was a lack of progress. You were at a loss. 

Was he mad that you didn't tell him? Was he actually mad that you didn't do anything about the scratches? Were you reacting the wrong way? Did he want you to hate him? Were you supposed to?

Or did he think that you couldn't grasp the situation? The severity. The big 'What if?' Maybe he was in fact tired. 

Just a different kind.

You started to move after another few seconds, the sound of your shoes against the tiles piercing through the layer of created silence. It was apparent that Logan was watching, albeit discreetly, following what he could as he took another swig.

Your movements concluded by the length of the table he was sitting at. You leaned onto it, releasing that weight that had started aching both your knees and your feet from standing for so long.

By the time your eyes were back on Logan, his own had snapped away.

You took in a deep breath of the cold air, feeling it hit the back of your throat, your shoulders deflating, “I get them too, you know... Nightmares.”

There was a beat of silence again. A lack of movement, or reaction. And then he met your eyes again. Slower this time, almost hesitant. He set his drink down ,listening. So, you continued, “I wouldn't go about comparing them,” 

“But, I understand enough to know what it's like.”

Logan sort of huffed a laugh after that. Not a malicious one, or in disbelief of the sentiment. He was acknowledging it. “You shouldn't have to.” 

He was back to that whisper of a voice again. It was still deep, and a tad gravely, almost forceful. But it conveyed enough. “Neither should you.. yet,” you paused, shrugging your shoulders, “Here we are.”

This time, the huffed laugh was louder. More pronounced in a way. It left a mark on his lips, leaving them curling at the corners. It fit right in. You wanted it to stay. Maybe a little too much, “At least, now, I get to say that I was attacked by The Wolverine and survived.” 

The comment was a little dangerous, especially if taken the wrong way. In all honesty, your eagerness allowed it to be blurted right through your lips before you could catch it. 

But Logan practically snorted. “Shut up.” he breathed, bringing the soda back to his lips. You pretended that you didn’t hear him, even crossing your arms over your chest, though a grin had slightly appeared, “I could even say that I defeated him.” 

In about a second his eyes had snapped to yours, a singular brow rising as the bottle smacked onto the surface of the table, “Okay,” He swallowed, “you did not defeat me, bub.”

“Oh, really?” you challenged, attempting to mimic his expression. “You were done after one move.”

Logan pushed the chair with his back in a way that had the legs screeching against the tiles. He stood from it, moving about a step to the side before continuing towards you.

“I was distracted.” he pointed out, gaze narrow as his eyebrows decided to furrow in an attempt to support his justification. “Excuses, excuses,” was all you said, accompanying it with a light shrug.

Logan was right in front of you now. He was close, about a step away. Though, the longer he looked at you, his eyes scanning across the skin of your face, that amusement once held had begun to fade.

He became sort of serious, the tension making the lines of his face more prominent all over again as his lips curved into more of a frown.

“I don't want it to happen again.” He was avoiding your eyes now, his own gaze cast downward. They were following his hand as he had brought it to your arm, the fingers of which ghosting across where the marks had been like he could still see them.

“Logan,” you started, your voice quiet yet loud enough that his attention was recovered. The two of you were looking at each other again, this time properly. Your features eased, all of the concern and the previous anger completely melting away.

You brought the hand of your previously injured arm upward, and he watched it until it went out of his vision.

You gently placed your hand on the side of his cheek, your palm pressing into the hair of his mutton chops which brought his gaze back to yours. And then you smiled lightly, just enough that he could see it, “Even if it did, I am not going anywhere.”

There was this quick twitch in Logan's expression. A split second of movement that had almost gone unnoticed until it happened again. His eyebrows pinched together.

Before you could say a word, he had suddenly pulled you forward, away from the table you were once against.

By the time you were up straight, his arms had wrapped around your body one after the other, entrapping you in this warmth that the kitchen could never achieve. It had you copying him as fast as you could, letting your hands land across the skin of his back and the fabric of the tank top.

Logan's head was planted on your shoulder, his hair sort of tickling the side of your face as he tucked himself in further. 

His body slightly deflated after a moment, a sort of gravelly hum of content rumbling from his throat. He obviously wasn’t putting his entire weight on you, the two of you would've tipped over within seconds. But you could feel it.

An extra weight that you were glad to carry.

[sirxlla]

Such an Integral Piece

----------------‐-------------------------------

Warnings: Fluff

Prompt: introducing your cat to Dick's dog Haley (request: @runnergirl234 also I love this idea it's the cutest thing ever and I hope you also have a great day)

Notes: female reader, italics are actions and thoughts.

-With that said it's all under the cut-

The idea of you both moving in together was obvious, most nights one of your guys's apartments was empty because you would sleep over with the other person. It wasn't entirely ideal because of the animals but both of you didn't want to move too quickly in your relationships. That was nearly a year ago before you knew he was Nightwing.

Now Richard was staying at whatever apartment was closest after patrol and unfortunately that meant it was usually his. Sleeping in an empty bed just felt wrong at this point.

"Why don't you just move in? You shouldn't have to drive so far after a long day of work, I know the traffic in the city is not great around this time. I mean it's never great." Dick rubbed your back as you both laid in bed together.

"You're sure?" You asked as you played with his silky soft fluffy hair.

"I mean it would help me keep an eye on you but if you don't want to I entirely understand, I don't want to pressure you into anything." He leaned into your soft touches, closing his eyes with a groan.

"I mean I've been meaning to get away from the other job for a while anyways, If we can figure something out I wouldn't mind moving." Absentmindedly staring at the ceiling in the almost pitch black room.

"You mean that weirdo, David? Is he still coming around?" He asks about the weirdo that used to work at your job that kept stalking you.

"No, I think you scared I'm off but I'm really tired of looking over my shoulder and hoping that he's not there."

"I can find you a job pretty easily I mean hell you could probably work with me if you wanted."

"Isn't that like conflict of interest?"

"Not if we are actually working."

"I'd be down." Haley jumping on the bed to curl into your side.

"Then you're moving in." Cuddling into your chest, his face squished against your boobs.

"I am moving in" You smiled as sleep started taking you.

It was a bit of a process going through everything that you had acquired over time. You had that apartment since you were 18 so there was a lot to go through. It took about a week but you were getting everything settled and moved into Dick's place.

Once everything was in it's rightful place at his apartment the last but most important piece was your cat Frodo. Frodo is very affectionate and loving.

"Oh, God. I'm nervous."

"It's okay, Honey. Haley's got her mask on and I've got a hold of her." He's almost 100% sure she won't do anything to her but he wants to be sure.

"Well, here goes nothing." You brought Frodo's carry case over to Haley to let her sniff him. Frodo started hissing as Haley got super excited and playful which prompted Dick to make her sit.

"Be gentle Haley." He said to the sweet pitbull that listenss to every word that came out of his mouth.

"I guess we'll just have to give them time." You stated to Dick. After about 20 minutes of him in the crate you decided to let him out. Dick told Haley to come sit on the couch with him and she very quickly listened being such a well-trained dog. Once everyone calm down they seemed to as well.

The three of you saw on the couch and watched a movie while Frodo decided to go explore the house. After about an hour Frodo came back and surprisingly curled up next to Haley. You were half asleep against chest so you didn't notice but he sure did, he took a photo and posted it on Snapchat with the caption "my little family" which was a photo of you laying on his chest and the animals cuddling together. This was all that he hoped for when he was so happy that everybody was getting along.

[twijaxx]

Female Itoshi Rin x Female reader, Vampire Rin, She is lowkey kinda possesive? smut, occ Rin.

wc: 0,6k

The sun lightly peaked thru your window, you didn’t want to wake up just yet, but you decided to look at your phone to see what hour it was. 10:34 shit, that’s kinda late for you, so u decided to finally get up from your bed and do something productive since it was your day off.

“ahh… what i’m gonna eat for breakfast today?..”- you thought as where sitting on the toilet “i wanna eat some cereal” the thought suddenly popped out in your mind as you wipe yourself down there. (what the fuk am i writing) Blood, fuck you started your period, the worst six days every woman can go thru every month. You put on your pad (omfg i’m cringing so hard) and went to the kitchen for some pain killers.

As you walked in you saw your gorgeous girlfriend Rin, but something was off.. it was bright outside and she was just sitting on the couch like nothing happened?! “Rinnie it’s bright outside! what are you doing here?!! you’re gonna burn yourself” ahh you forgot to mention, Rin was a vampire so it really was confusing when you just saw her in the middle of the day in your living room, since half of the time she’s showing up when the sun comes down so she don’t hurt herself.

“Nahh it’s fine, it’s just.. a little warm..” “are you sure? i don’t want you to get hurt baby” -you said as you sat on Rin’s lap slowly kissing her face. Oh yea you came here to take painkillers and eat breakfast, so you stopped kissing her and stand up to do what you came here for, but she grabbed your waist and pulled u back on her lap.

“where do you think you’re going? you where so surprised that i’m here just a moment ago, and now you want to go somewhere?” What’s gotten into her? she usually don’t act like that only sometimes… Oh right, she probably know you are on your period by now. “Rinnie i just want to eat breakfast and take some painkillers, i started my period my stomach hurts..” - you said as you tried standing up again, she let you go this time. “that’s why you smell so.. ripe” What the fuck did she just said? “what…?” -she didn’t respond, so you just ignored that and started your day.

The day quickly ended, it was time for sleep now and you decided maybe Rin wanna cuddle together till you fall asleep?? that was almost an hour ago and now you’re just laying there while Rin is between your thighs eating you out like she didn’t ate for years!

You can’t remember how many times you came already.. four? five? You didn’t bother counting, it just felt so amazing, you were so sensitive because you were on your period ;3 You felt like the coil in your stomach is about to snap again!

“Rin ahh! i’m a-about to cum! mhhh!” You saw stars as you came on Rin’s tongue but she just kept licking between your folds! her nose bumping against your clit “Ri-nnie, no more!”

“You’re doing such a good job… my sweet girl can give me one more, right?”

You where too far gone to respond, just screaming out her name as she kept going and going. Good that you lived in the middle of nowhere cause you would already get noise complaints from the neighbors :3

You didn’t know when you came again but Rin slowly helped you come down from your high and you watched her pull away, her chin was covered in blood and your slick, was that a bad moment to say she looked heavenly? anyways, she just stood up without a word.

“Where are you going?…” She didn’t respond, but she came back seconds later with a wet rag and started cleaning you up, then she laid down beside you pulling you into her arms.

“I love you [name]… but you are aware that vampires are not able to feed off period blood right?”

“I love you too Rinnie… wait.. what?!”

tags: @isaisliterallyhim <3

Chat did i cook[flushed] lowkey it’s one of my first long “fics” but i guess its because its fem lock AND I FUCKING LOVE FEMLOCK and i love rin too the ending was kinda rushed cause i ran out of ideas THANKS FOR READING POOKS😝 oh and from everyone’s request… uh… i told yall… im lazy as fuck BE PATIENT

[estellardreams]

Xiaotian wasn't sure what to do. It had been so long, and suddenly having his immortal friend he's known for so long not only teleport to Flower Fruit Mountain wounded, but also a monkey, was quite a shock.

He did his best to bandage up his friend, trying to make sure he was comfortable as he remained quiet and asleep.

He knew that his dad was probably gonna come running as he usually did. Super hearing, magical sensing, and future sense had its way with that.

He just wasn't expecting both of his dad's to come running so fast.

Wukong was the first to show up, immediately coming to a stop in front of the two.

"Kiddo? Who's that?" he asked as he knelt down.

"Um... Well..." MK hesitantly brushed the hair out of the sleeping monkey's face.

Wukong's eyes widened.

"Nezha...?"

Macaque quietly came up behind them, his ears out and alert.

"Y-Yeah... I don't know what happened. He just showed up like this!"

Macaque paused, staring back up at the sky. He frowned, his ear twitching.

"I think I know what happened. But it's not good news."

"Shouldn't we hear it from him himself? So we know for sure?" Xiaotian asked.

"That would be better for confirmation sake. But I have a feeling I know what happened."

The sky seemed to rumble overhead.

"Let's get him inside. It's gonna rain." Wukong scooped up the monkey into his arms.

"I'll go find Meihua and make sure she's inside as well." Macaque teleported away.

Xiaotian quietly followed Wukong inside their house, shutting the door behind him.

Rain seemed to pour outside the house, tapping constantly on the windows. Macaque pulled them shut, turning back to everyone.

"Xiaotian, could you wake Nezha up?"

Mk nodded, turning to the sleeping monkey. He gently shook him awake. Nezha stirred, wincing a little as he sat up.

He froze, realizing everyone was looking at him. He immediately yanked a blanket over him, curling up on himself.

"Hey, it's okay!" MK pulled the blanket down a little.

"No... No this isn't right... I... I probably look like a freak to you guys..." He mumbled.

"That's not true!" he pulled the entire blanket off him.

"You are not a freak! Believe me, it took me a long while myself to understand that in the past cycle."

"Past... Cycle?"

Mk stopped, realizing he said that aloud.

"That's not important. What's important is that you are physically okay?"

"What happened to you, anyway?" Wukong asked.

"I... F-father..."

The ginger monkey's gaze darkened, already knowing where this was going. He glanced at his mate, who simply gave a nod.

"He did this to you, didn't he?" he knelt down to him.

"I... Y-Yeah... But how do I fix this? Am I stuck like this?" he gestured to all of himself.

Macaque's ear twitched. "I'm... Sorry, Nezha. I'm afraid there's nothing we can do to help."

"I'm... Gonna be cursed like this... F-forever... Aren't I...?"

MK's eyes widened, his ears perking up. "Do you know how you got cursed?"

"No... I don't remember. It was just a patrol, I found something suspicious and went after it, but I... I forgot. My memory seemed to make me forget how and where it happened."

He sighed, taking Nezha's hands. "Then we'll try to help you get used to this, alright?"

"You sure? I... I don't wanna be a burden to you all and-"

"Nonsense! You're our friend. I'm gonna make sure you're happy here, alright?"

Meihua fiddled with Nezha's hair for a moment.

"Does this mean we get another sibling, daddy?" she asked innocently.

The two monkeys paused, staring at the kids, then at each other.

"Uhh... We'll talk about it."

"I need to go beat up a general right now. Cya." Wukong tried to leave, only for Macaque to yank him back.

"No, we are NOT doing that Sun. Besides the celestial realm is probably gonna get pissed off at us."

"So?"

"It would put all of us in danger! Let's just... Try to not do anything to them and help the one here, alright?"

Wukong sighed, pulling his arm away. "Okay... No violence... Yet."

Macaque's ear twitched. "I heard that-"

"I love you too! I'm gonna go make food!" Wukong immediately bolted.

Macaque sighed, shaking his head. "Heh. Always the same, huh?"

"I'm gonna go help!" Xiaotian got up and ran to join his dad.

Macaque glanced back at Meihua and Nezha on the couch. He sat down next to them.

"What do you like to do in your free time, Nezha?"

"Um... Embroidery..." He seemed to whisper.

"Embroidery? I think I got something for that."

"Really?"

"Yep!" Macaque summoned an embroidery kit, handing it to him.

"I like doing that too in my free time. It's a nice past time."

"I see..."

Meihua got up and ran off, returning with a kit of art supplies. She sat back down and opened up, beginning to draw.

"Oh! What'cha drawing Mei?" Macaque asked.

"A flower for my older brother since he's sad!"

Macaque's gaze softened. He ruffled her hair a little.

"That's nice of you, sweetheart."

Meihua smiled brightly, continuing to draw on her own. Macaque turned back to Nezha, who was still sewing quietly.

"... Li Jing hurt you. Didn't he?" he whispered.

Nezha's ear twitched. He hung his head low as his ears fell. "He... Doesn't like demon monkeys, like myself now."

"Did he disown you, then?"

Nezha paused. "How do you know that?"

Macaque pointed to his ears.

"Oh. Well, um... Yeah. He... He did."

"So by that logic you're also exiled, right?"

"Mhm."

Macaque quietly pulled him into a side hug. Nezha instinctively tensed up.

"What are you doing?"

"... Looked like you needed a hug."

The monkey's gaze shifted down to his kit. He put it aside before leaning into the hug.

"Thank you."

Heh I got caught up in writing an alternate take of this crossover AU!

My thought process was that in The New Past AU, the Monkey Nezha plot happens... And Li Jing is unfortunately the first to find out. Hence Nezha shows up on FFM looking for help.

I also hope I wrote Meihua accurately. I have no idea what her personality is like so I went with a young, curious, and creative child who may be a touch naive. If that's not accurate please let me know!

Would Monkey Nezha get adopted??? Idk but I played with the idea of Meihua being welcoming to anyone like them to the point she considers them family lol

The New Past AU belongs to @lululocomo! :D

Also unshaded/no overlays version cause I like this one too

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 28

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27

1.4k words

A much calmer Zen has a lot to unload.

(I am feral over my own character, ask box is always open for talking about my writing or just monster fucking in general!)

--------

Zen’s fluffy, shaggy hair tickled your nose as he stirred a bit and woke you. In the nearly two months you had been together you could not recall a single time when he slept in, seeing him still in bed was quite a surprise.

You kissed the top of his head and immediately felt him nuzzle against you, though you were not really sure if he was actually awake or if it was a subconscious reaction. His breathing was deep and even, and he seemed much calmer at least.

“Are you awake?” you whispered.

He nodded, apparently still not feeling quite up to speaking.

“Are you alright?”

Again he just nodded.

“Everything is alright my dear, I promise” you scratched the side of his head where his hair was cropped short, the only spot where you really could get through his dense hair to scratch his scalp.

“I ruined everything” his voice was so quiet as he spoke.

“No, no. You didn’t ruin anything Zen.”

“I hurt you the first time yesterday, then I went and did that.”

“And it’s ok, things happen, but you didn’t ruin anything.”

He stayed quiet and did not acknowledge you.

“I’m not mad or upset or anything” you tried to assure him, “I’m just worried about you, I just want you to be alright,”

“I am upset at myself.”

“I know” you kissed the top of his head again, “and we’ll figure it out together, I promise.”

That seemed to at least somewhat satisfy him, he gave another little nuzzle against you and you swore for just a moment that you heard him purr.

“How about I make us some breakfast? You’ve got to be starving by now, you never sleep this late” you offered.

“You are not good at cooking.”

“Then come sit with me and tell me what to do and keep me company.”

He nodded and shimmed off of you so you could get up.

Zen stuck at your side as you sat at the hearth, a blanket still wrapped around himself and his chin resting on your shoulder while he watched you closely. With a little guidance you were able to make a serviceable enough breakfast for the two of you.

It was a bit smothering how Zen chose to sit behind and a bit to your side so he could lean his chin on your shoulder. He decided to eat breakfast like that too, his arms wrapped around you as he reached for things, restricting how much you could move but you did not have the heart to try to get him to just sit next to you instead.

“It should not be like this” you heard him say softly.

“I know, but this is where we are, and we can go back to taking things slowly” you leaned against him and nuzzled him a bit, “and if it makes you feel any better, you felt incredible last night. But I can wait while we figure things out.”

He buried his face against your neck as best he could with his tusks getting in the way. It was faint, but you could hear his soft purring for just a moment.

“I am just so tired of waiting. I waited for so long for this war to end so I could just go home. And now instead I am here, where I barely get to speak my own tongue, my festivals are not celebrated here. I fought so one day I could go home, and I still cannot. And now I do not want to wait more to have you.”

It never occurred to you that Zen might be homesick. You knew he was not from the city, but he usually seemed happy. He knew so many people, always stopping to smile and chat with when the two of you were out, he knew his way around the city well, everything always seemed fine anyways.

“Have you gone back to visit recently?” you asked.

“Not since the end of the war. I went home to see everyone, and then almost immediately got summoned here and offered the position.”

Six months then you figured at least since he had been home. Six months since Zen had started living somewhere where everything was new and different, where he did not have his family, where he could almost never speak his own language. The irony that neither of you were home here was not lost on you.

“Why not go visit?” you asked.

“I do not have the time. There is just to much to do here” he said.

“Even just for a week or so?”

“We are rebuilding after a war. It is a puzzle of constantly changing and moving pieces trying to figure out what is needed and where.”

“And no one on the council ever takes time away?”

“Some do.”

“So why don’t you?”

He stayed quiet, his face still buried against neck.

“We can go visit together, if you want” you said.

“Maybe.”

‘Maybe’ was better than ‘no’ at least you figured. Though it felt odd that for someone who seemed to be homesick to also be so resistant to visiting home.

“I haven’t met any of your family, well except Bira. I think it would be nice if we went and visited.”

“I did not tell my family I got married.”

You pulled away from him just enough to look him in the eye, “What?”

“It was decided pretty fast, and at the time it did not seem like a big deal, so I did not say anything.”

“Zen! We’ve been married for almost two months! What do you mean you never actually told your family? When you found out you were getting married you didn’t send them a letter or anything?!” you could not believe what he was saying.

“I was told I was getting married in a month’s time, but at the time I did not consider it real. It was just another thing I had to do. It did not seem worth making a big deal of and getting my family involved.”

You really were not surprised that it was not something he made a fuss over, he already had told you that arranged marriages were not a thing here, it was just another duty to him on par with anything else really. But it did surprise you that months after he still had not told his family.

“So they really don’t know?” you asked.

“No, just Ba and Bira, and I asked them not say anything.”

“And you’re sure they haven’t said anything?”

“If my mother knew I was married and she was not here for the wedding she would have made the trip here to yell at me in person by now. I would never hear the end of it.”

“So that’s it? You’re just going to somehow never tell your family that you’re married?” you snapped a bit at him.

“No! No” he tried to press his forehead to yours, frantically tugging at you so he could face you and reach you. “I just do not know what to do now.”

“Tell your family” you answered him flatly.

“I know, but now I do not know how to do that now. I do not want to just show up and surprise them, ‘Hi mother, I have not seen you in months. By the way this is my wife, we have been married for two months and I never told you’ because that will go well.”

“Why not send a letter? Just explain the same thing you told me” you suggested. His family would probably still be annoyed, but at least it would help smooth things over.

“It is not easy to send a letter that far” he protested.

“So you would rather just show up and surprise them?”

“No.”

“Then send a letter.”

He sighed and nuzzled his forehead against yours, “I will send a letter.”

“And perhaps we’ll visit for the next festival?”

“Maybe.”

“You can’t avoid your family forever.”

“Not forever, just long enough to not be yelled at too much.”

“Zen” you pushed back.

“We will go for the next festival” he finally conceded.

--------

Part 29

Tag list

@blushycadaver @mochalyluv @hazyspacefairy @littlelovebug98 @tufflepuff23 @lets-imagineastory @emonatural191 @after-laughter-come-tears @plathsotherib @krayziee @zaqnette @graveblanketgreen @lovingbadguys @nogoatsnoglori @bunnibabylilly

[nisuna]

Need more yuuji smut!!

So hear me out-

bestfriend!yuuji finding your depressed ass in the park while it's raining and you're soaked. So he takes you home and take care of you and puts you to sleep in jis clothes.

Then wakes you up by eating you out and then .. you know.. the rest of the stuff

Holy shit am I in my angst era? 😭 Yuji is 100% my comfort character, so this was very nice to write. He's so boyfriend oml I love him so much<3 I don't even care if this does well or not. I really needed this, tysm for the idea!!<3

⚠️ If you or anyone you know struggles with their mental health or has thoughts like these, please look up your local s*uic*de prevention hotlines. Everybody deserves to get help, and everyone deserves to live. It might not always be as easy as in my little story, but please look after yourselves, I love you all so much and thank you all for all of the love and support🫶🏻 As someone who's been struggling with their mental health ever since their early teens I can say that I definitely can't speak for everyone on this matter, but maybe some will find comfort and familiarity in this

TW: angst, s*icid*l ideation, mentions of declining mental health, hurt and comfort, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, body worship, nipple play, body appreciation, mating press, confession, a lot of crying, this is so dear to my heart, supportive!bff!yuji

~2,8k words~

<3masterlist<3

--------mature themes ;strictly 18+ MDNI-----------

Everything has been fucked lately. Your job sucks, school isn't going great, your social life is almost nonexistent, your family is a mess and you just want some peace and calm. You've been home constantly, but you just can't stand it anymore, which is exactly why you went outside for some fresh air. And as if the universe was giving you the middle finger as well, it started raining. But you just couldn't be bothered anymore. Life sucks and your mental health is declining. So you don't even flinch at the rain hitting your lowered head. You don't care that your clothes are soaked at this point. You just sit there and take it. You've been sitting here for what feels like hours. There has been multiple nosy on lookers that passed by mumbling. Some of them showed concern, but some of them were threw disgusted looks at you and assumed you're some kind of junkie that's loitering around in their peaceful park. You couldn't care less, nobody was actually brave enough to approach you anyway, so you let them talk.

It's getting cold, but you can't bring yourself to move. You're soaked and it's getting dark, but you feel like you have nowhere to go. You're starting to feel numb, your hands and feet are cold and you almost can't feel them anymore. This is actually quite nice, you're neither sad nor mad, you feel empty, but it's not uncomfortable like it usually is. You feel calm, you're not worried. You think that freezing to d*ath might actually be a good way to go. It would be like falling asleep without having to ever wake up again. For the first time in weeks you felt yourself smile. You've made up your mind, nobody will miss you anyway so why bother. But as you were about to lie down, you heard a familiar voice screaming your name.

"What the hell-", you thought to yourself as you sat back up and looked around. You didn't have to wait long before seeing a familiar figure run towards you.

"Y/N!!! Where are-? Oh my god there you are. I looked everywhere for you. What are you doing?", he reached out to grab your shoulders, only for you to flinch away.

"Yuji, what are you doing here?"

"Well, you weren't picking up my calls and I got worried." When you didn't give him an answer, he continued, "Are you alright? Whoa you're soaked and my god you're ice cold c'mon let's get you home. I don't want you to get sick.", he grabbed your hand, trying to get you off that bench. But you didn't budge.

"Y/N? What's wrong c'mon let's go-"

"No, I'm fine, really. Just leave me be."

"What are you even saying? How could I? You are in no condition to be left alone. It's freezing and you're soaked c'mon let's go home-"

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE GODDAMN IT!", you screamed and felt tears leave your eyes. Shit. When you reached up to wipe away at your eyes, Yuji stopped you and wiped your tears with his sleeve instead.

"Y/N I don't know what's going on, but please let me help.", he knelt down, squeezing your trembling hands and giving you a warm smile.

"Why do you care so much?", that came out way too wobbly for your liking.

"Why do I care? Y/N, you're my best friend of course I care. How could I not? Look at you."

You were at a loss of words, so he continued. "Is it okay if I touch you more?" Nod. As soon as you gave him the okay he pulled you into a tight hug. It took you a bit to relax, but you eventually gave in and let your emotions run wild. You were shaking, crying loudly in his embrace. All the built-up tension of the past weeks came flooding out, but he was there to catch you. He held you close as you let go. He didn't say a word until you calmed down a bit.

He pulled away to take a look at your puffy face. "Let's go over to mine, hm? What do you say?"

"Fuck it.", you thought as you nodded and got up.

"Want me to carry you?"

"No, that's embarassing. I can walk alright.", you huffed.

"Don't worry, it's late. Nobody will see."

"Okay."

After he wrapped you up in his jacket, you got on his back and let him carry you to his apartment. He's so warm and smells really good. You subconsciously nuzzled your face closer to him. Falling asleep like this would be way nicer than alone. You thought of that as you closed your eyes and hugged him tighter.

Luckily, he only lived a couple blocks away from the park. He was gentle when he set you down as soon as you arrived.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it.", there it was again, his sweet smile. "You should go take a bath before you get sick. I'll lend you some of my clothes." Nod.

------

You felt like a new human being after the warm bath. His clothes were also warm and smelled like him. It was oddly comforting. Has he always smelled this good? Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice.

"Oh wow, you look better already.", he grinned.

"Yeah", you cracked a smile back at him, "I do feel a lot better. Thanks a lot."

"Of course! Now, what do you want to eat, you must be starving? How long were you out there anyway?"

"All day actually...", you confessed.

His shocked expression made you giggle as he pushed you into his kitchen.

After a good meal he said you could go sleep in his bed. He'd sleep on the couch tonight. But you stopped him. "I don't want to be alone. Can you sleep with me tonight."

"Sure, I thought you needed some space and didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Can we cuddle too?"

"We can do whatever you need."

That's how you found yourself back in his arms for the nth time today. The atmosphere was calm, as you were exchanging occasional remarks while watching something. You don't know what overcame you, but you just felt so safe and taken care of that you leaned in for a kiss. However, you quickly pulled away when you felt him stiffen up and not kiss you back.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. God, I'm so stupid. You probably hated that. Shit, please don't hate me-"

"No, please calm down, it's alright. It's not that I don't like this. It's just..."

"Just what?"

"You're in a very fragile state right now. I don't want you to do something you might regret."

"But I'm sure, I really want this-"

"Sleep it over. Just one night and if you still feel like it tomorrow I'm down. I'm here for you. We can cuddle all you want, though. I just don't want to take advantage of you."

You shot him your biggest pity pout and when that didn't work you gave in. "Alright, alright, I guessss.", you huffed and fell into his embrace. Both of you didn't talk much after that, there was a bit of tension, but you didn't act on it. When you finally drifted off to sleep it was enveloped in his warmth and smell.

You haven't slept this well in a long time. And you definitely haven't been woken up this nicely in a long time, either.

After such a good night's sleep you didn't expect to wake up to your best friend between your thighs, lapping away at your pussy.

"Hi, good morning", he rasped, morning voice heavy. "You just looked so cute wiggling around in my arms and when I checked you were already so wet down there. Sorry, I couldn't resist.", he said while softly kissing up your thigh.

"It's alright, let me wake up first, though ah-", you couldn't finish your sentence, because your head snapped back with a moan, as he dove back between your legs.

"Sorry, but I need this just as bad as you do. You taste so good. God, I've been missing out on this this whole time? Just lay back and let me take care of you."

You couldn't say no. Not that you were able to say anything at all with his skillful tongue and fingers working your cunt open. He made you a whimpering and sensitive mess in a matter of a few seconds.

"Shit, how are you so good?", you let out a drawn-out moan, but didn't get an answer from him. His actions spoke instead of him, as he had you cumming on his tongue soon after. Once he licked you clean he slotted his body between your legs and kissed you nice and deep.

"Mmh", you moaned against his lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Tastes good, right?", he grinned.

"Shut up", you playfully hit his chest, grinnig right back at him.

"Alright, my turn.", you smiled, trying to get him to lie down only to be pushed back, as he got on top of you again.

"Nope."

"Hey! Not fair, I wanna taste you, too.", you pouted at him.

"Maybe next time. Today's all about you, I don't want you to lift a single finger. As I said, lay back and let me take care of you."

That was an offer you definitely couldn't refuse. So you gave him a nod and waited for his next move. His next move was a very welcome one, as he finally rid him himself of his shirt. You always knew he was well built from years in the gym and other sports. But seeing him like that up close made you gush. His front was mouth watering, and his arms were to die for. He was huge. You would've rubbed your legs together to ease your pain if he wasn't keeping your legs open with his body between them. You didn't even notice you were staring until he spoke up.

"You're practically drooling."

"Fuck, sorry.", you shrieked looking away.

"Don't sweat it. Oogle me all you want, I dig it.", he smiled, pulling your face back in his direction.

"Can I touch you?"

"What kind of question is that? Go for it!"

His skin's so soft, but the ripples of his abs and chest are brick hard. He let you explore his body before grabbing your hand and giving it a gentle kiss.

"My turn.", he whispered against your fingers before pulling your shirt up and exposing your tits. Your nipples were already hard from all of the stimulation earlier.

"Fuck, they're so pretty.", he whispered, grabbing one in each hand and giving them a hard squeeze.

"Shit.", you moaned, back arching off the bed and pussy rubbing against his hard cock. To make matters worse, he leaned down, licking a thick stripe up your neck and pinching your aching nipples between his fingers.

"Off. Now.", he demanded, already helping you pull the shirt over your head. You were finally fully exposed and he ate it right up. He leaned back down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and massaging your other breast. He made sure to pay equal attention to both. It felt really good, but you were getting impatient, already grinding against his hard crotch.

"Yuuji~~", you moaned at a particularly hard suck. "Don't tease. Pleasee, I need you.", you whined.

"Shit, sorry I got distracted. Wait here, I'm gonna go get the condoms."

Before he could leave you, you stopped him.

"No, wait, please don't. I want to feel you.", you said, already digging your nails in his arms at the mere thought of doing it raw.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive.", you smiled reassuringly.

"Fuck, alright. Got it.", he swore and rid himself of his boxers.

Once again you were staring. He was bigger than you thought. You definitely couldn't wait any longer. You needed him inside of you immediately.

He didn't make you wait long before he started to slowly bottom out. Your moans grew embarassingly louder with each inch that filled you up.

"Shit, you're so tight. Please loosen up, you're gonna kill me."

"Sorry, it just feels so good.", you mewled back arching and pressing your soft tits against his hard chest. "Kiss me, please~~" He immediately obliged, crashing his mouth against yours. It was so raw and messy when your tongues kept mashing together, but it just felt so right.

"I'm gonna start moving now. I'm gonna fuck you so good."

You nodded and pleaded. Your wish was his command, so he finally picked up his pace. And god, was he good with his hips. With each thrust and shift of your legs, he kept hitting you deeper and deeper until you practically saw stars. It's so cliché, but you felt like you were in heaven.

Your nails kept grazing his broad back and shoulders, but you didn't want to hurt him, so you held back. As if he had read your mind, he leaned down and whispered against your ear.

"Do it. Mark me up, it doesn't hurt. Please don't hold back."

So you didn't hold back anymore. You let your emotions run wild, exploring his body with your hands. Shyness long forgotten, as you left long red streaks all over his back, occasionally pulling him down for a kiss.

The world stood still. You never noticed before, but he has always been there for you. He was the only person that you ever felt loved by. How had you never noticed. Even if you two never said it out loud before, you loved each other. It had to be love. You felt overwhealmed as his fingers slipped between your bodies and started rubbing thick circles in your sensitive clit. Your breath hitched as the words you kept secret for far too long came tumbling out.

"I love you, Yuji. I love you so much, thank you for always taking care of me. I only have you in my life. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much. Please never leave me, I need you."

If he was taken aback by your words, he didn't show it. He just pressed his lips against yours and kept rubbing and moving his hips until you came undone. And as you were moaning and arching your back, he finally answered.

"I love you, too. So, so much. I always have. I promise I will never leave. No matter what happens, I got you. Forever.", that's when the dams broke down and tears were spilling from your eyes. You just hugged him close and thanked him.

Not long after, he was reaching his limit as well. So he hoisted your legs over his shoulders and pounded away until he filled you up to the brim. All the while he was kissing your tears away and saying how good you were for him and how well you did.

When his hips finally came to a halt, he gently put your legs down and kissed you again. He was gentle when he pulled out and you winced as you felt his cum drip out of you and onto his sheets.

Immediately after, he pulled you close, hugging you like he was about to lose you and you were able to calm down a bit. But the bad thoughts came back as you whispered against his skin.

"Today was so stressful and you must've been worried sick. What if I have another breakdown. I don't want to be a burden. I don't want to stress you out. I don't want to break your heart if anything happens to me."

"Y/N, look at me.", he begged, hands on your cheeks.

You finally looked back up at him, tears stinging your eyes.

"You're not a burden.", he whispered, giving your forehead a gentle kiss. "I will protect you forever. For as long as I live, I will always be here to catch you. No matter what happens. You're not alone anymore. You don't have to endure everything silently and on your own. I promise, things will get better. I will be here each step of the way. I love you so much, so please don't leave me."

You wanted to believe him, you wanted to get better. Maybe you finally could with his help. It's a big gamble, but you're gonna bet all of your cards on this relationship. After a long pause, you gave him a silent nod and burried your face in his chest, all while he was gently patting and kissing your head.

Life and everyone else might be shit, but at least you got him now. He was worth living for.

--------

If you read this far, thank you so much<3 I hope I can make some lighter and happier content soon, but I'm on a roll right now *sigh* Please stay healthy and look after yourselves, mwah

Hope to see you all very soon<3

[qrrieterisunnq]

Crazy Day At College - Jack Hughes

strawberry girl masterlist || 1 year anniversary

JACK!HUGHES X AMARA!JAMES — WARNINGS: nothing just sweet pure content — SUMMARY: When Amara’s classmates somehow figure out she is probably dating THE Jack Hughes and won’t stop asking her questions, one girl finally helps her and becomes her best friend. — WORD COUNT: 2,2K — AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here is the promised fiction to celebrate a year of this AU!! Anyway, I hope Jacky is going to be fine, the hit was nasty... PART OF STRAWBERRY GIRL AU

Humming the rhythm of the song, Amara opened the doors to the room where her next class was taking place.

Trying not to pay attention to the looks she was receiving from the people, she sat down in her usual spot and put the bag right next to her. Focusing on the song, she pulled out her laptop and her notebook with a pen where she wrote exam or assignment dates.

She smiled when she received a message from Jack. They haven’t seen each other this morning. He and Luke left early for the morning skate while she was still sleeping.

Jacky Boo - Good morning Berry!❤️ Enjoy your classes and think about me. I love you🫶🏼💕

A big smile formed on her face when she read it. Without hesitation, she typed an answer and shoved her phone in her bag.

Berry - Good morning, Jacky.🤭💕 Thank you. Enjoy your day! Can’t wait to see you. I love you.✨🫶🏼

Letting out a sigh she rested her phone on her table and pulled her headphones down because the class was starting in a few minutes. She noticed all the looks and whispers thrown her way, but she didn’t pay attention to it. Or at least she tried.

Braelyn, one of her classmates, sat beside her and smiled at her softly. Amara smiled back at her, but her eyes drifted back to her notebook. She pulled out a book for her law class and opened it on the last page they were on.  

Professor Gibson came in five minutes later, with books in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

“Good morning!” she said in a stern voice and dropped the books on the desk, startling everyone. Today, I will assign you your semester work,” she shrugged and said out loud, earning attention from everyone present. It will be on at least ten pages, the font will be 10px, and the due date will be in five months. I will read your names and the topic of your work.”

Amara wrote down the information and waited until she heard her name.

“Angela Beston, I want you to look into political corruption.” Mrs. Gibson looked at her with a fake smile and moved on to other names until she finally said Amara’s.

“Amara James, you will have the case of Luis Garavito,” she smiled at Amara. “I expect nothing more than the best Amara.”

“Oh course, professor.” Amara smiled back, writing down the name of the most brutal Columbia serial killer.

Mrs. Gibson kept with the rest of the names and their topics, while Amara wasted no time with her research.

“Girl, I so want to be you right now,” Braelyn said in a whisper from next to her.

“What?” Amara looked surprised when she heard the girl next to her talking to her. There was never anyone who would want to talk to her, and she was nervous about that.

“Said that I want to be you right now. Girl, you’ve got the best one. You know what I got? A fucking civil procedure.” She sighed, with a frown on her lips. That is the most boring part of a Law, and I am so fucking angry I didn’t choose a Criminal Law.” She explained, taking in a loud breath when she finished talking.

“Yeah, but you chose it because you were interested in it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I mean…I guess.”

“Well, then it won’t be a problem, or boring for you to do that.” Amara smiled at her politely, because she didn’t really know how to talk to people, she never spoke to before.

“Yeah, I guess, you are right. Thanks,” Braelyn said and extended her towards Amara. “I am Braelyn, but you can call me Brae.”

It took Amara a few minutes to extend her hand a shake hers because she never thought someone would willingly talk to her.

“Amara, but you can call me Ara.”

Braelyn smiled widely and shook her hand, excitedly. “Do you have any plans after this class?”

“Ah, not until 11 am. I have another class and after that one, I am free until 6 pm. Then I have plans with my boyfriend and his little brother.” Amara looked at the clock on her laptop as she spoke. She can’t wait for tonight’s game evening. They haven’t had it in a while, and she can’t wait.

“That sounds nice,” she said a smile never leaving her lips. “So that means, you are free for two hours after this class?”

“Yup.” She popped her lips as she said that, giggling quietly when Brae chuckled.

“Okay, so that means you would come with me for a coffee?” she asked hopefully.

Amara was quiet for a while because she didn’t expect this, as she said before, she never really had a girlfriend, and she was not sure how to act. But she liked that someone might have been interested in her as a friend, so she did not want to screw things up.

“Yeah, I would like. But there is probably one thing you should know,” she had to be honest with her, she needed to tell her about her ADHD. “I have ADHD.”

“So?” Brae asked with confusion written all over her face.” I am not sure, why this should concern me. I have dyslexia so,” she said with a smile. Sure, she got her point, she knew it must have been hard for her to find friends, but she was almost on the same page as her. ”It is cool.”

Amara just watched her in awe. She was surprised she didn’t care let alone told her about her disability. “Well, I guess, I just need you to know that, so you could, back off from this…friendship...”

“Yeah, well now I know, and look here I am.” Brae nudged Amara’s shoulder and focused her attention back on the professor when she started talking again. Same did Amara and for the rest of the class they both stayed quiet.

“And then he just left,” Brae sighed throwing her hands in the air. “I was like, what the fuck is he doing!” Amara giggled at her story, taking a deep breath to calm herself down.

“Did you follow him?”

“Hell nah. He was acting like a brat.” She shook her head, chuckling when she looked at Amara’s red face from all the laughing.

Amara looked relaxed and happy, and Braelyn was glad to be here with her. She wanted to talk to her since the beginning of the semester but was nervous too, but she was happy she eventually did. Amara is the sweetest girl.

Amara looked around her, noticing some girls already looking at her and talking in hushed voices. She didn’t want to make a big deal of it, so she turned back enjoying the moment with Brae.

Just as she sipped from her matcha the girls approached them and stopped beside their table.

Brae looked at them with raised brows while Amara smiled politely. “Need something?” Brae asked curtly when she noticed the looks on their faces.

One of the girls, a brunette with perfectly curled hair and an air of confidence, crossed her arms and tilted her head. “We just wanted to ask Amara something.”

Amara stiffened. She didn’t know these girls, but their sudden interest in her was setting off alarms in her head.

Brae leaned back in her chair, unimpressed. “Then ask.”

The girl’s gaze flickered between Amara and Brae before settling on Amara again. “So… is it true? Are you really dating Jack Hughes?”

Amara hesitated, shifting in her seat. “Sorry, do I know you?”

The girl smirked, clearly unfazed. “No, but everyone’s been talking about it. Like, you and Jack Hughes? How does that even happen?”

Brae made a disgusted noise. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The brunette ignored her and pressed on. “I mean, seriously. You’re not even in his circle, and it’s not like you’re some influencer or model. So how did you two even meet?”

Amara’s fingers curled around her cup. “Through his captain.”

The blonde girl standing behind the main one raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you used Nico to get to Jack?”

Amara’s stomach twisted. “What? No.”

The brunette scoffed. “Come on, it makes sense. I mean, Jack’s got options. Like, actual options. Why would he settle for someone no one even knows?”

Brae slammed her hand on the table. “Okay, let’s get one thing straight—you don’t know anything about Amara or her relationship. Just because you’re too obsessed with Jack Hughes to function doesn’t mean you get to sit here and act like she doesn’t belong with him.”

The blonde rolled her eyes. “Relax. We’re just asking questions.”

“Interrogating is more like it,” Brae shot back. “Why do you care so much, anyway?”

The brunette crossed her arms. “Because it’s weird. No one knew who she was before, and now suddenly she’s with him? It’s sketchy.”

Amara finally found her voice, steady and firm. “What’s actually weird is you acting like you’re entitled to know anything about my life.”

Brae smirked. “There it is.”

The girls huffed, exchanging glances before the brunette scoffed. “Whatever.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and turned on her heel. “We’ll see how long this lasts.”

As they walked away, Brae let out a dramatic sigh. “Wow. That was pathetic.”

Amara exhaled, tension draining from her shoulders. “That was exhausting.”

Brae shot her a grin. “Yeah, but you handled it like a queen.”

Amara shook her head with a small smile. “Thanks for backing me up.”

Brae smirked. “Babe, get used to it. You’re stuck with me now.”

For the first time in a long while, Amara felt like she wasn’t alone.

By the time Amara got back to the apartment, she was exhausted. She hadn’t expected to spend her day getting grilled by random girls about her relationship, and even though Brae had been there to back her up, the whole thing still left a weird feeling in her chest.

She let out a deep breath as she unlocked the door and stepped inside, setting her bag down by the couch. The apartment was quiet, but she knew Jack and Luke were home—Jack had texted her earlier saying they were back from practice.

Kicking off her shoes, she made her way toward the kitchen, where she could already hear the faint sound of Jack humming to himself.

She turned the corner and found him standing by the counter, drinking a protein shake while scrolling through his phone. The second he looked up and saw her, a wide grin spread across his face.

“There’s my girl,” he said, setting his cup down and immediately walking over to her. His arms wrapped around her waist as he pulled her into a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Missed you.”

Amara melted into his embrace, letting the warmth of him settle her nerves. “Missed you too.”

Jack pulled back slightly to look at her. “How was class?”

Amara hesitated for a second before sighing. “Weird.”

Jack’s brows furrowed. “Weird how?”

She bit her lip, debating whether to downplay it or just tell him everything. But one look at Jack’s concerned expression told her she should just be honest.

“Some girls came up to me today,” she started, leaning back against the counter. “I don’t even know them, but they just… started asking me all these questions about us. About you.”

Jack frowned. “What kind of questions?”

Amara crossed her arms. “Like how we met, why you’re dating me, if I used Luke to get to you.” She let out a humorless laugh. “One of them even said I wasn’t your type.”

Jack’s jaw clenched. “Are you serious?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

Jack ran a hand through his hair, his expression darkening. “What the hell? Why do people think they get to have an opinion on who I date?”

Amara shrugged, but before she could say anything, Jack gently cupped her face, his blue eyes filled with nothing but love. “Hey. Don’t listen to them. I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks. You’re the only person I want, Amara.”

Her heart fluttered at the certainty in his voice. “I know.”

Jack leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before pulling her into another hug. “I hate that you had to deal with that.”

She let herself relax against him. “Brae shut them down pretty hard.”

Jack pulled back slightly. “Brae?”

“My new friend,” Amara said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “She’s in my class, and she kind of… defended me the whole time.”

Jack grinned. “I like her already.”

Amara chuckled. “Yeah, me too.”

Jack brushed his thumb over her cheek. “If it happens again, just tell me, okay? I don’t want you stressing about this.”

She nodded. “I will.”

He smirked. “Good. Now, come here—I think you deserve extra cuddles for putting up with that bullshit.”

Amara laughed as Jack pulled her toward the couch, already making good on his promise. And for the first time since this morning, she felt completely at ease.

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Soup or Salad

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Word count: 6.6k

Notes: See I TOLD YOU GUYS I was still writing

Edmundo Díaz is literally the stupidest, lamest, most annoying man you’ve ever met in your life, and that’s saying something because you know Evan Buckley. 

Right now Eddie’s made it his life’s mission to not be touching you. He stands way too close in the kitchen, he sits too close at the table and he always takes the seat on the couch next to you. He’s even resorted to holding his finger right above your arm and making little faces as he says “I’m not touching you” and you scream for Bobby to make him stop. 

Yeah, life at the firehouse is fun. 

Today’s prank consisted of leaving a toy snake in your locker. The high-pitched scream and sound of Buck and Eddie’s laughter from upstairs got all three of you called into Bobby’s office and those two got their asses chewed out while you sniffled in the chair next to them. 

Which- okay kinda made Eddie feel bad. He didn’t want you to cry, he just wanted to scare you a little. 

“Hey so-” he stops you outside Cap’s office, he holds your arm, his rough fingertips so different from your soft skin. 

“I know he made us apologize and all, but I really do want you to know- without the pressure of him being here, I really am sorry Y/N” 

He’s not even really sure why he wants you to know he’s sorry, but he just does. You give him a polite thank you and walk away, still wiping at your eyes. 

That’s the third time he’s felt his heart flutter at the sight of you. A feeling he ties down, chains up, and rams as far down into the teeniest tiniest corner of his heart as he can. 

You do the exact same thing when your heart flutters when you catch him working out with Buck later. The way his body moves as he kicks the bag… it’s something else that’s for sure. 

“I know you’re all ready to get some sleep, but it’s nice you’re all here anyway,” Bobby says as he serves up the plates of spaghetti. You purposely pass the plate to Hen instead of Eddie and he rolls his eyes and you stick your tongue out at him. 

“Listen, since you’re all here. Athena wants to have a nice dinner this weekend with everyone. She’s got a reservation at LaRue’s for all of us, including a plus one for you and Hen” he says as hands Chimney his plate. 

“What about us?” Buck huffs and Bobby chuckles 

“You three are as single as they come” 

“Especially Eddie,” you say as Bobby hands you your plate 

“Yeah, sure. When was the last time you got laid, Princess?” He throws a piece of garlic bread at you and you just barely catch it. 

“I don’t know, ask your mom” You wink at him and he kicks you under the table and you squeak before kicking him back. 

“I got laid last week,” Buck says nonchalantly, shoveling his spaghetti into his mouth. 

“Hold up what?!” Hen chokes on her apple juice and you turn to him, shaking his shoulders as Eddie pats her back, his mouth wide open

“Spill!! Now” 

“Can you hurry the fuck up?!” Eddie groans at you as you drag your feet back to the truck. 

A call had come in right around 4am, and you’d been curled up on the couch with a soft blanket you didn’t remember putting on but very much so welcomed. Everyone was up and ready to go in five minutes flat and they were off. 

Usually, everyone made sure you and Eddie were on opposite ends of the truck but it was too damn early to fuss with it and you ended up right next to him. It’s quieter than usual too, probably because it’s literally 4am and it’s slowly putting you to sleep. Your head falls over onto Eddie’s shoulder and he freezes for a second, looking over at you.

“Glad I could make a good pillow” He mumbles before turning his head to look out the window. He doesn’t exactly wake you up though, and he slouches down a little so your neck isn’t at a weird angle. 

The truck comes to a stop and everyone hops out, except you and Eddie. 

“Dude come on! This is-“ Buck comes back in, Eddie’s head is on yours with his hand in your lap and you’re cuddled into his side. Buck grins widely and pulls out his phone. 

“Oh I can’t wait to print this and plaster it all over the station”

He wakes you both up with an annoying little giggle and gently pokes at you two so you purposely wake up slowly and in each other's arms 

Which is how he ends up on the ground later while you and Eddie beat him up. 

“Do you always have to leave your clothes all over the place when you shower??” Eddie rolls his eyes at you 

You called dibs on the showers first when you got back to the station because the men’s showers had the best water pressure and that’s important okay. 

“I don’t know, ask your dad” You flick him off as you climb into the truck and plop down into the seat across from him. Everyone is already in, Buck is literally leaning on Hen completely asleep and she’s fading just as fast. 

“Do you ever shut up” He sighs as he pulls his knee to his chest and you pull off your gloves just to throw them at him.

“Do you ever stop whining?”

“Isn’t it a bit early for this?” Chim mumbles to Bobby who just shakes his head as he starts driving 

“Do you ever stop leaving your shit all over the floor?” He retorts, throwing your gloves back at you and you snatch them out of the air 

“You tripped over my shoe once!” 

“Three times actually. But who’s counting!” 

“Apparently you are, loser.”

“That’s the best you’ve got? Loser?” Eddie laughs at you cruelly 

“And you’ve got something better at 4am?!” You scoff and he grins widely 

“Oh, I’ve got plenty! Bitch? Useless? Human mattress?” 

Buck snorts and your head whips over to him as you slap his leg “Hey!”

“I’m sorry, the human mattress was funny. Okay okay I’m going back to sleep I’m sorry please continue” 

Eddie smiles smugly at you and your hands curl into fists. “You can call me whatever the fuck you want. You know? Maybe this is why your last girlfriend left you. Because you don’t know how to fucking respect women. Oh no, no it was the cheating, wasn’t it? She found someone with a better dick who actually knew how to use it!” 

“Oh shit” Chimney whispers from the front seat and Bobby nearly jumps from the truck just to get away from you two. 

“You little fucking-“ Eddie doesn’t even finish his sentence before Bobby is pulling over. 

“Are we home?” Buck mumbles sleepily looking around 

“Up front Diaz. Now” 

Bobby’s using his scary Captain voice and you both know you’re gonna get a talking to when you get back. Eddie throws his seatbelt off and slams the door open, switching seats with Chimney. 

As soon as Bobby pulls into the station Eddie is out of the truck and throwing his stuff into a pile in front of his shelf. 

“Eddie you can’t just-“ Bobby sighs as he goes storming into the back room and slamming the door shut. He turns to look over at you, and you walk quietly over to Eddie’s shelf and start to hang his stuff up neatly. 

“You two are constantly at each other’s throats,” He says, putting his hat up “This needs to stop or else I’m going to have to change one of your shifts. And I love you Y/N and the way you work with us but you were hired last” 

“I know, I know. He just. He’s so annoying! And he’s rude and pushy and- and-“

“Super hot” Buck walks past, to his shelf and you throw your hands in the air 

“Exactly!- wait- fuck” 

Everyone stops and you shake your head, waving your hands wildly “No. No, I did not fucking mean to agree with that absolutely heck no-“

“Oh my god, you like him” Chimney scoffs “And he likes you?!” 

Your mouth drops open, it’s moving but no words are coming out as you stare at him. 

“There- no- no fucking no-“ You splutter and Hen comes over now, putting her hands on your shoulders 

“It’s okay honey. We all know how you feel about each other”

“A-are you shitting me?!! I’d rather jump in a boiling lake of lava than sleep with Eddie!!” 

“I mean… no one said anything about sleeping with him” Bobby mumbles and Buck who’s been suspiciously quiet snorts and pushes Bobby’s shoulder. 

“You’re not supposed to be encouraging this!” You snap, stomping your foot “You guys freaking suck!” You storm away to the supply room to refill the truck with all fucking four of them singing “Eddie and Y/N sitting in a tree” behind you 

They leave you both alone for an hour at least as you angrily refill the truck, occasionally kicking the large tires and grumbling to yourself about how stupid they all are 

You do not like Eddie, and he’s definitely not super hot. He’s stupid, and pigheaded, and annoying. He’s tall, and smelly and- okay well that’s not true he actually smells really good. And well now that you’re thinking about it it’s not very nice to you know say he’s not at least cute. Because, yeah sure, you guess by, societal standards he may be slightly a teeny tiny bit attractive… 

“Fuck. No” You shake your head, pissed off. There’s absolutely no way you’re into that asshole or that he’s into you. This is the man who ruined your last four dates! He always had some stupid reason as to why you couldn’t make it, he even gave your last date the wrong directions to the firehouse to pick you up! 

No. No there’s no way you two could ever be interested in each other 

Eddie comes over to the truck and swings the door open before stepping inside. You look at the open door and sigh, okay, yeah it was a pretty low blow. 

You pull yourself up into the truck as Eddie sits down in his seat, going over his checklist. 

“Uh… hey” you stuff your hands in your back pockets 

“Hey” 

He doesn’t look up, barely even acknowledging you at all. He just keeps looking at his stupid list. 

“Can- um. Can we talk?” 

“Go ahead” He shrugs and you take the clipboard from his hands 

“I’m being serious Eddie!” 

He yanks it back from you, standing up. He towers over you, especially in this tiny ass space. 

“Don’t touch my shit” 

“It’s a clipboard!” You slam it against his chest and he stumbles back a little 

“It’s my clipboard so don’t fucking touch it!” 

“You know what- fuck this! I’m here trying to apologize to your bitchass and you can’t-“

“You’re what?” He stops arguing and looks at you, blinking slowly 

“I’m trying to apologize” You draw the words out and he holds the clipboard in both hands in front of him, looking down 

“Why?” 

You flinch a little because his tone is different now. It’s deeper, smoother maybe? There’s just this weird bass to it you’ve never really noticed before 

“Uh-“ you start, looking down at your hands “Well. It’s just-“ you fold them in front of you and take a deep breath before looking him in the eye. 

“The comment I made? About the whole girlfriend thing? That was low. I know how much that hurt you, the breakup- and like. That was so mean and-“

“I accept your apology,” He says quietly, a little smile on his face “I know how hard this is for you” 

You roll your eyes and push at his chest “Anddd you ruined it” he laughs and holds onto your hand and you gulp, blushing a little. Your fingers flex in his hand, feeling the hard chest underneath them and he looks at you, tightening the hold on your hand. 

“Do you have a ride to dinner? With the team? I uh- I know your cars in the shop. I’d like to offer a ride as an apology” 

This is the first time in your life Eddie Diaz has ever made you swoon. He bends down a little closer to your height, his cologne swirling in the closed air around you is starting to make you kinda dizzy. 

Dizzy??? Over Edmundo “The biggest fucking asshole” Diaz 

“I guess I accept your apology too…” you mumble, suddenly realizing just how close you’re both standing. You take a little step back, pulling your hand away. 

“Thanks. Six thirty work for you?” You clear your throat and go to leave the truck now, is it hot in here?? Why is it so freaking hot the AC is always blasting 

“Six thirty is fine,” He says as you hop out and turn back to him 

“Okay… uh- see ya??” You awkwardly salute him with two fingers and cringe inwardly as he snorts and does it back 

LaRue is a fancy-ass restaurant which is how you know Bobby and Athena definitely have something to announce and you’re hoping it’s good, this is more of a celebratory kind of place so you’re sure it is.

That just really leaves you with figuring out what to wear. 

You take your time in the shower, lathering yourself with your best soaps and making sure to avoid getting your hair wet. Once you’re out you put on your Spotify and start getting ready, laying out all your tools on the counter and lining up your hair products.

You’re just finishing straightening your hair and dramatically singing “Man! I feel like a woman!” (Buck's favorite song) when your doorbell rings. You click your phone to see it’s only 5:30, so it can’t be Eddie?? 

“What the-“ You unplug your straightener and bring it with you, a hot, blunt, instrument!! Perfect! And pad out to the front door, trying not to smudge your toenails. 

“Who is it?” You call through the door, raising your straightener 

“It’s me, Y/N” Eddie calls through the door and you blink blankly at the door 

“Why are you here??” You swing the door open and Eddie looks at your straightener, and then at you, standing in a silky red robe. His eyes roll over your figure as he bites his up, he’s shamelessly checking you out and you feel your body flush with a weird, needy, kind of heat. 

“Hello? Earth to Señor Pervert? You’re early. Like really early” You wave the straightener in front of his face and he looks back up at your face. 

“My power went out, nothin I can really do about it. So I didn’t think you’d mind if I got ready here. Didn’t you get my text?” 

Your mind flashes back to the little “ting!” noise you cursed out in your shower for interrupting “Let’s hear it for the boy” 

“Ohhh….. that- that was you…” you say and Eddie nods along with you as you step aside and let him in 

“Well I’m kind of in the middle of getting ready” you gesture to yourself as you lead him to the bathroom “But if you don’t mind sharing the space, I'm pretty sure I’ve got all the products, and tools you’ll need” 

“I brought some stuff… but yeah thanks” He follows you, watching the way your hips sway as you enter the bathroom. He smirks at your layout and you scoot some of it over to make room for him.

“Cute” He nods to your mostly pink setup up and you flick his arm before plugging in your curler. 

“You’re such a hoe” You roll your eyes as it heats up and turn your music back on. He snickers and sets out his stuff before turning on his razor. 

“I swear to god you better clean that up when you’re done” You point with your wand before starting to curl. 

“I’m a damn gentleman, of course, I’m going to clean up” He glares, before going back to concentrating on his face and you stick your tongue out. 

Things are starting to feel weirdly domestic, like incredibly domestic. You’re both humming along to the music, he curls the back of your hair that you can’t reach (he’d done it for his cousins a billion times) and you help make sure his sideburns are even. 

He grabs your mousse and sprays a little in his hand and you giggle as he runs it through his hair. 

“Oh shut. up.” He gives you a look and you stop putting on your eyeshadow, looking up from the mirror in your hand 

“It’s funny!!“ you whine and he turns to you, his hair perfectly in place. He’s so close to you, his face inches from yours. 

“There is absolutely nothing funny about using-“ 

One little piece of hair falls against his forehead, and you both look at it. You roll your eyes and go to push it back, your fingers card slowly through his hair and he leans into your touch, his eyelashes fluttering a little as he sighs quietly. 

“Mousse” he finishes his sentence, staring into your eyes and it’s like the air has been sucked right out of your lungs. 

When did Eddie Diaz become this… gorgeous 

“You’re blushing” He raises an eyebrow and you blink stupidly at him 

“H-huh?” 

“I said” He whispers, you can feel his breath fanning across your face he’s so close “You’re blushing” 

“Of course I am” Your voice is so quiet, it shakes a little as you speak “I’m wearing blush” you explain. 

“Nuh huh” He taps the closed container on your counter “Didn’t put it on yet, haven’t even put on any highlighter” 

“You know a lot about makeup” 

“I have all female family members” 

“Oh” 

His eyes flick down at your lips, and then back at your pretty doe eyes like he’s asking something, something that’s really… really starting to freak you out. 

When the fuck did you develop a crush on this testosterone tower 

Your phone starts ringing and the spell is broken, you jump back and Eddie stands tall again, reaching over to turn off your alarm. His gaze lingers on it for a moment before turning back to you 

“Apparently you’re supposed to be putting on your dress right about now” 

“Well since you’re here I guess I have a little extra time” You shrug and snatch your mirror from the counter and go back to your makeup. He tosses his stuff back in his bag and leans against the doorway 

“I’m gonna change then? If that’s cool with you” 

“Yeah no that’s- so cool. Way cool, ultra cool” You stumble over your words and Eddie laughs, letting his head fall back as he leaves the bathroom and shuts the door. 

What the hell is going on?! If it wasn’t so perfect you’d pull at your hair and like bash your head into the mirror you don’t know it’s just weird okay. It’s just weird to be feeling these super weird things okay, especially the ache between your thighs. That you’re painfully ignoring. 

After putting on the finishing touches and setting your makeup you turn to the bag hanging from your bathroom door and unzip it. You’d gotten the floor-length champagne-colored dress for your cousin's wedding, and it was definitely fancy enough to wear here. The dress has two high slits going up to the top of your hips and you’re actually incredibly grateful this place has tablecloths. You fix the spaghetti straps and adjust the top to cover up the tape you’d used instead of wearing a bra. With everything in position, you spray your perfume and crack open the door. 

“Hey, can I come out? I need my shoes” 

“Yeah, I need help with my tie anyway if you can” He calls out and you shut off the lights, leaving the bathroom. 

Neither of you is prepared to see each other and that’s very apparent by the way you both freeze up, he’s never seen you look so… breathtaking. His eyes widen as he takes your dress in, those high slits making the front of his pants tighten. Which  just confirms everything he’d been thinking all afternoon since you’d apologized in the truck 

When the fuck did he develop a crush on the missing link 

“You-“ His voice falters a little “You look beautiful” 

You look down at your dress for a second and then back toward the bathroom “Uh- um. T-thanks? Thank you…. You um… you clean up pretty well too” You look at him again, his cheeks are as pink as your dress. You tiptoe over to your bed and grab your shoes, waving them. 

“Im gonna- I'm gonna put these on and like I can help with your tie in a second” 

“Let me help?” He rushes toward you, pushing you back gently onto the bed. He takes your shoes from you and gets on one knee, taking your leg in his hands. His hands run down your smooth calf and around your ankle before slipping your shoe onto your foot and tying it back up your leg in a pretty little bow. He marvels at the way your skin sparkles in the light of the sun coming in through your windows courtesy of the shimmering oil you’d put on. 

“Eddie I- I can do it my-“ 

You feel his lips on your other leg, kissing softly, slowly up your leg as he slips your shoe on, your breath hitches in your throat as he looks up at you, his hands creeping further up your leg and over your bare thigh. 

“What are you doing?” You bite your lip and he kisses your knee before placing his chin on it 

“Dunno, just couldn’t help myself” He admits, looking up at you like a lost puppy. You can feel your resolve melting as you lean forward and smooth his hair back. 

“You needed help with your tie?” 

You scoot forward off the bed and he moves back a bit, as you stand up. His hands go to your hips, holding you in front of him as he’s on his knees. 

“This feels weird,” you tell him and his grip loosens 

“Shit. Shit I’m sorry that was so forward I didn’t mean-“ He’s getting up and you push his shoulders back down because you like him on his knees 

“Wait no! That’s not what I meant!!” You put his hands back on your hips and tilt his chin up 

“Okay well, it’s sort of what I meant… I just- you’re really freaking hot” 

Eddie chuckles and brings you forward by your waist, resting his head on your torso 

“Yeah so are you. Who knew you’d be so pretty under all the death stares and bitchy comments” 

“Who knew you’d be so sexy under all the bad attitudes and general stupidity” You grin widely and allow him to stand up now, he gives you a look and puts his tie in your hand

“Oh teehee you’re so funny” He rolls his eyes and you giggle, putting the tie around his neck 

“You started it” 

“Mhm, and I bet you wanna end it huh?” He pulls you against him as you finish tying it and setting it straight. 

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty” He murmurs in your ear as you clasp your hands behind his neck and he leans forward, nuzzling his nose in your neck and toying with your necklace. 

“You really thi-“ Your sentence is cut off by your phone ringing again, you groan and try to let go of Eddie but he just holds your waist tighter grabs your phone for you, and holds it up to your ear.

“Hey Buck what’s up?” 

Your hand takes the phone and he wraps his arms back around you properly. Eddie is clingy apparently. Which doesn’t surprise you with his stupid “I’m not touching you” game 

“Uhhh yeah, I'm sure it’s fine. Okay, we’ll see you soon!” You hang up and Eddie takes the phone from you and slides it into his pocket 

“What does he want?” You feel him nibbling your ear and you giggle, pulling him closer for once 

“He needs a ride, solely because he’s lazy and doesn’t feel like driving tonight. He said it’s better for the environment.” 

“He just wants me to be the designated driver” He rolls his eyes, finally pulling away. His eyes linger on your lips for a moment, he hasn’t kissed you yet and it’s driving you slightly crazy. 

“I guess we have to go get him” He sighs, and takes your hand, pulling you with him out of your bedroom. The click of your heels as you follow behind is oddly erotic to him, he helps you put on your little coat and hands you your purse before opening the door for you. 

“Ladies first,” He says and you walk past him, floating on a cloud of your perfume. 

“Really? Because last time you said it was Lizard people first” You snicker as he opens the truck door for you and helps you in, you cross one leg over the other as he gets in on his side and goes to buckle up. His eyes are practically glued to your thighs and you smirk leaning against the center console with your chin in your hand. 

“See somethin' ya like?” 

Apparently yes, because the next thing you know his lips are pressed to yours. He kisses you slowly, you look so goddamn adorable when you’re blushing like this. He deepens the kiss a little, his tongue licking at your lower lip as he draws you closer to him, like he wants you in his lap and admittedly that seems like a very… very nice place to be 

He pulls away and chuckles when you chase him, pecking his lips again 

“Do we really have to go tonight?” You mumble and he boops your nose 

“Yeah kinda. You want everyone to know we stayed at your place? What would they think of us?” 

You look at him, crinkling your nose “Yeah I guess… and there’s no way we’re telling anyone about this right?”

“Oh fuck no. They’d never let us live it down.” He pulls out of the driveway and holds his hand out to you 

“Which admittedly brings us to that very awkward “what are we?” Thing” 

You take his hand and hold it in your lap, tracing the back of it and drawing little shapes 

“Well- and just listen. Would it be so much of a leap… to be like I don’t know…boyfriend girlfriend? It’s not like we don’t know each other… disgustingly well already”

“24-hour shifts man” Eddie sighs and you snicker, leaning your head against his shoulder 

“Literally. Like that one time, I walked in on you taking a colossal-“

“If you finish that sentence I swear to god I will hit the ejection seat button” 

“Wouldn’t it be cool if you really had one though like”

“Do you want to find out?” 

You roll your eyes but keep quiet anyway and he chuckles, holding your hand tighter.

“So we’re just gonna jump to being together huh? Not even gonna take me to dinner first?” 

You snort and lay your head against the headrest, looking over at him 

“You want me to take you on a date Princess?” You tease and he raises his eyebrow at you for a moment before looking back at the road 

“Damn right, I do. Want the whole enchilada baby girl. Including drinks at your place afterward” 

“So your tipsy ass will have to sleep over?” You laugh and he grins 

“Hell yeah! Better put me in one of your T-shirts too” 

“Fucking bet my man, I will woo your ass” You poke his arm as he pulls up to Buck's place and texts him to come down 

“Saturday?” 

“Saturday” you agree with a wink. 

Before Buck comes down to the car Eddie hooks his finger under your chin, pulling you in to kiss you again. He smiles a little, pecking your lips softly again when you giggle. 

“I can’t wait… but I hope you know teasing you is about to be a whole lot different” He makes his point as he trails his fingertips over your shoulder and down your arm sending a shiver down your spine. 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean” You whisper against his lips and he smirks, moving his hand to your exposed thigh now, squeezing gently. 

“Oh you’re gonna find out tonight sweetheart” 

He pulls away just in time for Buck to come out, he gives you two a weird look, you’re in the front seat and not killing each other. 

“Hey thanks for getting me,” Buck says as he closes the door and buckles in behind you. 

“You owe me” 

“Why doesn’t she owe you!” Buck points at you childishly and Eddie smirks 

“I don’t take payment from sewer rats. She’s suffering enough” 

Your mouth drops open and you punch his arm “Sewer rat?! I look like a damn goddess right now!”

“Goddess of sewer rats maybe” he mumbles and you reach over and shut the truck off and throw the key at his feet so he’d have to get out to reach it. 

“Ahhh…There’s my best friends” Buck laughs as Eddie throws his door open, grumbling and you two go back to normal. 

Once you get to the restaurant, Buck opens the door for you and helps you out, letting out a low whistle. 

“Jesus Y/N, you tryin’ to make me fall in love?” He laughs as you do a little spin for him and toss your hair over your shoulder 

“What this old thing?” You joke as he holds out his arm, Eddie gives you a look as you take it and you feel goosebumps trail up your arms at the way his eyes darken possessively. You swear to god you’re gonna jump that man before the night is over. 

The man at the front leads you three over to the table, and you seem to be the last ones to arrive. You wave at them and do another cute little spin as they ooh and aww at you. 

“Yassss Queen!” Chimney says, high-fiving you while Eddie pulls your chair out (Athena does not miss that) and you sit down in it. You look up at him for a split second (Bobby doesn’t miss that) and he sits down next to you as Buck sits on the other side. 

“Doesn’t she look amazing!” He practically fawns over you and you giggle

“Maybe you’ll be my plus one” he winks and suddenly you feel Eddie’s hand on your knee 

“Y-yeah!” You laugh nervously, “Maybe!” 

Everyone is laughing and talking but you’re way too distracted, taking a sip of your wine as you feel his hand softly rubbing your thigh, his fingers creeping higher and higher, feeling the soft skin of your inner thighs. 

You don’t even know how he’s doing it, keeping a straight face while laughing at something Hen said and dragging his fingers lazy on the inside of your thighs. You feel his fingers brush over your panties and you jolt a little, glancing at him for a second before going back over to whatever story Maddie is telling everyone. 

He just keeps teasing you, gently brushing his fingers over them. You can see the little smirk he has from the corner of your eye and you wish you could just slap it off. It’s not until the waiter comes to take all of your orders that you feel his fingers sink inside you, the second the man gets to you, holding his pen and paper with a polite smile on his face while Eddie pumps his long fingers in and out slowly. 

“Miss?” He asks again, and Buck nudges your shoulder. 

“Hurry up before I forget mine” he snickers and your mouth gapes open, still nothing coming out. 

“I- uh- I’ll-“ 

“Like you’re not going to be a basic bitch and order your chicken Alfredo” Eddie pinches your clit and you snap your mouth shut to keep from moaning right there. 

“No calling people basic bitches at the dinner table Eddie” Bobby scolds him and Buck snorts before slapping his hand over his mouth. 

“Sorry,” He says in a singsong voice and makes a little face and the waiter moves onto Buck now. 

“I’m surprised you’re not ripping him apart right now” Hen chuckles and Eddie speeds up, his fingers working your clit faster as they all start talking again, you start to squirm against him some, gripping the edge of the table. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Buck leans over, whispering quietly, draping his arm over the back of your chair. Eddie’s fingers freeze for a second and you nod slowly. 

“I-I’m great, just- just peachy!” 

“Are you sure?” He looks so worried, his hand starts gently rubbing your arm and Eddie starts his assault again, his fingers dipping deeper inside you again and moving against that spongy spot in fast little strokes. You squeeze your thighs together, moving your hips subtly. You turn your head to look at Eddie and he looks down at you, and then over at Buck. 

He wants you to tell him. 

“I-I’m- it’s just-“ Your voice is so quiet, your words shaky and weak 

“You wanna go get some fresh air?” He scoots his chair back and goes to move yours but you put your hands on his arm, gripping it tightly as your orgasm washes over you, your eyes shut tight as Eddie works your clit faster, and you have no freaking clue how no one else can tell what’s going on 

Well… no one except Buck. Who’s mouth drops wide open as he realizes what’s happening to you right now, even if he’s not sure how it’s happening 

Eddie eases his hand from your soaked folds and wipes it on your inner thigh before putting his hands back in his lap like nothing happened. He grins at you widely as Buck helps you up

“Everything okay?” Bobby asks, sipping his wine and all attention is now on you as you hold onto Buck's arms, your legs a little wobbly 

“Yeah, everything okay?” Eddie has the biggest shit-eating grin and you glare at him 

“We’re just gonna get some fresh air” Buck holds you to him “I think she just had a little too much to drink”

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that you’re a lightweight?” Eddie says over his glass and your mouth drops open 

“You little-“

“Come on” Buck rolls his eyes as he pulls you outside with him. He helps you over to a pretty white bench and you both sit down. 

“So…. What the fuck” Buck turns to you and you let your head fall back, pinching the bridge of your nose 

“Can you keep a secret?” 

“Fuck no” 

“That’s what I thought” You look at him and he whines, running his hands over his face. 

“Okay. Okay this one yeah, I promise I can do this” 

“Eddie was fingering me under the table we just got together this evening before we came and got you and I want to rip his hair out” 

You say it as fast as you can, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as you shake him slowly. It doesn’t matter though because he’s literally not even moving, he’s completely short-circuiting as he stares into the distance 

“Buck? Earth to Buck” You wave your hand in front of him and he blinks slowly 

“Do you mean to tell me-“ Buck speaks slowly “You and Eddie are finally fucking dating”

“You can’t tell anyone!!” You say putting your hands over his mouth “Eddie is the bane of my fucking existence!!! No one would ever let us live it down!!” 

“Firemgodldckingreson!!!!” Buck yells into your hands and you tilt your head 

“Huh?”

He shoves your hands away and throws his in the air “I said For good fucking reason!!! You two are crazy! You guys have never liked each other ever! Eddie literally came to me like three weeks ago losing his mind over the fact he had a big ass crush on you and-“ 

“He did what?!” You get up from the bench and Buck slaps his hands over his mouth 

“Nothing!! He did nothing it’s nothing! I don’t know what I’m talking about!!!” 

You push past him and go right back into the restaurant. Buck is hot on your heels begging you to not say anything and he totally said it wrong but you’re not listening. 

You get back to the table and everyone stops talking to look at you 

“You’ve liked me for three weeks?!” 

Eddie drops his fork on his plate and groans “Buck!!”

“She cornered me!!!” He whines and you whirl around on him 

“I did not!!” 

“Can you three maybe take this outside??” Athena hisses and Hen puts her hand on her arm 

“No no. Let them cook” 

Eddie stands up now and Buck sits down fast, hiding behind his napkin and trying to avoid being murdered by his best friends. 

“No. I have not liked you for three weeks” He says, taking your hands 

“Oh shit” Chimney whispers and Maddie slaps his arm 

“I’ve liked you for longer than that” 

The entire restaurant literally gasps, which is an exaggeration. Because Steven, the host was in the bathroom. 

“Y-you’ve what?!” You splutter and Eddie runs his hands over his face 

“I’ve liked you for a long fucking time Y/N. And whilst I wasn’t going to tell you tonight-“ he glares at Buck “I- I know I’ve been no better than a schoolboy tugging on your braids-“

“Neither has she” Bobby mutters and Athena glares at him 

“But like. Shit, I really do like you okay? And I- I don’t mind” his voice lowers “I don’t… mind telling them about-“ he takes your hand again, stepping closer 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You mumble and he shrugs 

“I thought you hated me” 

“You wanna tell him or should we?” Athena gestures between her and Hen and you let your head smack against Eddie’s chest 

“IrrealjylIkwdypauto”

“Gonna have to speak up sweetheart” Eddie snickers, tilting your head up with his fingers. 

“I really liked you too and I don’t mind telling everyone we’re dating,” you say clearly, whispering it to him. 

“Hey! Hey propose for a free dessert” Buck hisses, shoving a ring into Eddie’s hand.

“I’m not gonna-“

“They have chocolate lava cake”

Eddie gets on one knee, kissing your hand and you nearly crumble to the floor laughing. 

“Y/N Alicia Maria Vanessa Nash. Will you make me the luckiest man in the world and be my wife?” 

The entire restaurant holds their breath… and this time it really is! Steven is back!

“I-“ You sniffle, making yourself cry and shake your head fast “Yes!!! Oh god, Eddie yes!!!” 

He stands up and scoops you up in his arms, spinning you around and kissing you and everyone claps for you as you sit back down. 

“I get half the cake right”

“Oh definitely” 

“You watch that ring with your life” Athena points at you and you wiggle your fingers. 

“Will do boss” You grin as Eddie holds a forkful of lava cake to your mouth